


New Orleans

by bridgetlikesto_write



Series: New Orleans: Klance [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is literally Tahani, Bad Jokes, Catholic Lance, Cliffhangers, Conspiracy, Crimes & Criminals, Criminal Past, Drug Use, Kinda, M/M, My First Series, Slow Burn, also i have the WORST sunburn and im peeling everywhere, and present, anxious keith, coran loves his kids, criminal gifts lol, criminal present, foster home child grew up, grew up catholic, im just making up tags too, like every chapter, not enough Shiro, sad scottish dad, sexy buisness partners, sly crush, smug together, sorry - Freeform, ultimate meme squad, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-03-27 06:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13875327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bridgetlikesto_write/pseuds/bridgetlikesto_write
Summary: Lance is a "magic worker," he makes people's wild dreams true. He serves to a wide range from smuggling immigrants to maximum luxury, under one rule: NO MURDER. Keith comes in one day looking for Lotor and initially Lance turns him away, but Keith comes back to beg for help. Lance agrees to help, but only on the condition that Lance supervises to make sure there's no killing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [me](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=me).



Good idea origins tend to remain a mystery. That’s because success doesn’t usually happen after one great idea, but building your idea takes work. With all the work involved, the origin is usually lost in the story. Lance could never forget his origin, however. He was only freshman at Catholic University of America. Anyone who met Lance might think this is a strange fit, but they were known for their theater program and his parents had gone there. He forgot all about theater when, one day, he was watching Viceland with his roommate Hunk.  
They had both become obsessed with 2 Chainz and his show Most Expensivest but it seemed scattered across the internet. There were versions called Most Expensive Shit, episodes spanning from two minutes long to 20 minutes, some episodes you could only watch if you had certain subscriptions, but they had become determined to watch them all. They were watching the last available episode where 2 Chainz went out to find the most expensive cannabis products. It wasn’t until Lance saw Zarilla Bacon that he felt inspiration.  
“We could get that, right?” Lance asked Hunk.  
“That juice?” Hunk asked. He referred to the juice that Zarilla Bacon, a cannabis infusion chef, introduced to the guests. It contained 100 milligrams of THC and could even make its creator forget to pay attention to her surroundings while she was hosting a celebrity dinner.  
“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to try edibles that work,” Lance said.  
“I don’t think so, it’s in Las Vegas. I could make you edibles,” Hunk suggested.  
“I would never ask you to taint your pastries, but I’ve determined myself,” Lance proclaimed dramatically.  
“Alright, buddy, you do you,” Hunk laughed. Lance did not reply.  
When Hunk turned to face Lance, he was already texting away trying to find someone in the school who lived in Nevada or had Nevada connections. It didn’t take long, considering it didn’t occur to a young Lance did not know when to stop. Just one short month after that fateful night, Lance held the infused juice, that 2 Chainz himself drank, in his own hands.  
After the one feat, Lance became renowned on campus for his ability to get what he wanted. Shortly, fellow students of all ages came to him if they needed something. There were simple requests like getting a used textbook for twenty dollars, or there were extreme ones like acquiring high end drugs. There were other ridiculous requests like meeting Tyler, The Creator or finding New York Fashion Week tickets. The rumors of his abilities went out of control, but he could never say no. He accepted each request like a mission and always accomplished them, it was always worth it.  
A few years after Lance switched his major from theater to business management, Hunk and him had opened a bakery out of New Orleans. This, of course, was a front for Lance’s business. He had to stay hidden since he often worked outside the law, though never anything morally illegal. Not much, anyhow.  
One warm morning, only five minutes after Hunk opened, Officer Shirogane came in. The sun behind him gave him a halo appearance but his dark demeanor gave the opposite impression. When people see a decorated police officer, covered in scars and obvious prosthetics, they tended to respectfully avoid eye contact. Yet, his eyes pierced through Hunk’s, who was at the front counter.  
“Lance,” Hunk called to the back, “your 6:30 is here.”  
Lance entered as if he was a grand reveal, with sheer blue fabric draped around a black dress. He saw himself as a genie and presented himself as such. “Officer Shirogane? Five minutes late?” he flirted.  
“Again, just call me Shiro. And I thought I’d give you a little more time this month,” he said. Lance recollected last month when Shiro came in and how unprepared he was. “Anything to report?” They sat in a table in the middle of the empty restaurant.  
“This month, some guy named Fernando wanted another guy, Stan, I think, dead. I didn’t get much more information other than Stan is pretty hidden right now. I turned him away saying we’re not hitmen,” Lance said.  
“You don’t have to clarify everytime, Lance. I know what you do here and I respect that. Our arrangement won’t change as long as you’re reporting to me and me alone,” Shiro reminded him.  
“I know how informants work,” Lance smirked. “But I feel like it’s reasonable to remind police officers I’m not a murderer.”  
“Do you do that with every cop you meet, because that may come off as suspicious,” Shiro joked.  
They shared a polite laugh before Shiro asked, “Anything illegal that isn’t murder related?”  
Lance scrunched up his face, trying to recollect his past month. “A few visas, and--uh--Californian edibles, somebody came in looking for a prostitute, but we don’t do that either so I redirected her to look somewhere else. I think that’s it.” He failed to mention that he was currently holding a few hundred pounds of cocaine, but that was a one time favor.  
“Are you sure?” Shiro asked.  
Lance sucked in his bottom lip under his teeth and looked into the distance as to look like he was in deep thought. He did this to make Shiro feel reassured that he was really recalling, but Lance was confident that what he shared was all he was going to share. “Yeah, that’s it. Slow month.”  
For a split second, Shiro’s eyes squinted suspiciously. Lance’s heart fell to his stomach thinking Shiro would burst with some accusation. “Thanks, Lance!” Shiro smiled and knocked on the table as to conclude their meeting. He may be scary looking, but he really was an adorable.  
“Wait!” Hunk called before he left. “Coffee and croissant, on the house.”  
“You guys are going to fatten me until I can’t walk!”  
As he left, Lance and Hunk proceeded to their usual morning routines. Hunk continued to bake for his expected audience while Lance finished a few projects, tidied his meeting area, and went to help Hunk. Lance was behind the cash register until someone would order the Blue Lion cake. Today, however, that didn’t happen until noon. Considering they lived in “sin city”, not getting business until noon was unusual. Well, sin city is Vegas, but New Orleans was truly devious.  
Lance lead a shaky woman into a different room of the bakery and invited her to sit with him. “How can I make your dreams come true?” Just because he had to quit drama, didn’t mean he had to quit being dramatic.  
“I don’t even know where to begin to start publishing this book!” the woman across from him spat.  
Lance sunk in his seat, easing. “I see. Well, coming to me was not necessary for publishing-”  
“I know,” she interrupted. “But I hang out with a lot of stoners who told me about you and--I don’t know. I don’t think I can deal with the heartbreak of getting my life’s work denied, do you think you could send it to a publisher that would get it published? Do you do things that are legal or is this strictly for illegal business?”  
“I could, but this really isn’t-” Lance got interrupted again.  
“I know, I know, but--I’m willing to do whatever it takes so, here,” she dropped the enormous stack of papers on the coffee table between them and walked out.  
Before Lance could even consider what to do with the stack, Hunk peered into the back. “Someone else ordered a Blue Lion!” He lead the timid looking boy into the back. He looked around in astonishment. Lance’s dark and glamorous meeting room looked nothing like Hunk’s cute pastel bakery. It was like be transported to a different universe, but it was just another room.  
The boy sat in the seat that the woman had sat in moments ago and looked at Lance. Lance adjusted himself so he was leaning forward in his seat and asked, “How can I make your dream come true?” The stack of papers looked like a wall between them, so Lance struggled to move them and repeated his line just as cool as before. This time he saw the boy, with huge--almost purple--eyes and long hair under his hood.  
“Umm--,” he started. “I’m Keith. I came from Phoenix to be here.” He pulled his hood back, revealing the length of his black hair. It grew into a wave in the back, but looked almost like a mullet.  
“Wow, I’m really getting famous,” Lance smirked in his flirtatious tone of voice.  
“I guess, I asked around a lot,” he said. “I need you to find someone named Lotor.”  
“Yes, and do you plan to kill loader?” Lance asked, growing suspicious.  
“I--” he paused. “I plan to bring him to justice.”  
Lance sighed, “Sounds murder-y, and we are not hitmen. Please leave.”  
Keith’s jaw dropped and his already large eyes grew with desperation. He spoke with his heart in his throat, “Wait, I didn’t-” but Lance interrupted.  
“Dreams. Not fantasies. If you pay the right price, I’ll make any dream a reality. If you want to have lunch with Lebron James, fly with Beyonce in her personal jet, smoke weed with Cheech and Chong, go see Tupac in Cuba, I can manage. This reeks of dirty, revenge fantasy. Leave.”  
His heart, somehow in his throat and stomach, began to beat rapidly with rage. “Fine! I saw this episode of Blacklist, and spoilers: you get caught!” Keith shouted. He wanted to throw something as he stormed out, but when he flung a soft pillow in Lance’s face, he seemed more confused and flustered than hurt. Before Keith could dramatically stomp out the door, Hunk’s huge body blocked the way out.  
“Murder?” was all he managed to ask, out of breath.  
“Avoided, no one heard anything, right?” Lance.  
“No, I have a baby monitor hidden in here,” Hunk said.  
“I’m not a baby! Where is it, that could totally ruin my whole aesthetic!” Lance grunted throwing the pillows around to try to find it as Hunk’s sweet laughter burst from his chest.  
Keith was angry he was being ignored so blatantly, so he found a space between the doorway and Hunk to slip through. He couldn’t help but brush against Hunk, the space was rather small, anyhow. At the moment Keith was out of the room, Hunk realized how painfully invisible he made Keith feel.  
“Be right back, I got to give the murderer a cookie on the house,” Hunk excused himself.  
Lance thought it wasn’t worth it, that guy probably only enjoyed bitter tastes, anyway. But once Hunk thought of some kind deed, there was no stopping him. Lance remembered when he struggled to find a front for his business, and Hunk, who had just began working to find a bakery location a week prior, he insisted Lance be his partner and set up shop in his bakery in exchange for help.  
The stack of papers rested on top of Lance’s laptop, but he still went for the computer instead of dealing with the work. He opened Netflix and went to the episode list of Blacklist and scrolled through the description of each episode until he opened the third season and the word “djinn” caught his attention. He recognized djinn as being a sort of genie, but a little more historic or religious and less known. He watched the episode until he got bored of the characters’ reckless decisions. He was nothing like the Djinn in the episode, her business focuses around hatred and Lance’s business is the exact opposite.  
He sat at the counter with Hunk, waiting to hear someone order the Blue Lion, but no one did. As he waited, his mind began to drift to dark places where he over analyzed his business plan until it was all one giant mistake. Maybe it was a bad idea to limit himself to only wholesome desire. Was it stupid he volunteered as an informant? Should he keep his business in one location, or travel like a circus? Questions flooded his mind making his body unaware of what it was doing. He hadn’t noticed hours pass until he was standing, and even sweeping and he heard the words “blue lion,” said by a familiar voice.  
“And another cookie, please. I don’t usually like sweets, but wow,” Keith said, making Hunk blush a little.  
Lance dropped his body in the open chair next to him when he saw Keith headed towards him. “If it isn’t my favorite murderer,” he smirked sarcastically.  
“I never said I wanted to kill Lotor,” Keith corrected.  
“I literally see the knife poking out of--what are those, male go-go boots?”  
Keith adjusted his pants and boots to hide his knife as he replied, “I don’t really pay attention to my clothes, just get whatever is sturdy and affordable.”  
“I can tell,” Lance snapped, but still in good nature.  
Hunk brought Keith his cookie and tried not interrupting, but couldn’t stop Keith from kindly thanking him and smiling.  
“I don’t want to kill him, honest,” he continued. “That’s why I’m not going to a hitman. I could go to a P.I., but I don’t really trust them.”  
He probably said more, but Lance ears were busy ringing and he said, possibly interrupting Keith, “What makes you trust me?”  
Keith looked confused, and a little embarrassed. “I didn’t mean--umm-you just tend to care about your clients, so I’ve heard. I hear you have most of your success because you somehow have access to visas.”  
“My family’s from Cuba,” Lance muttered. His ears grew red as Keith’s smile grew large.  
“That’s it, you’re empathetic! Private investigators are losers who work for cool people who are in trouble because it’s the closest they’ll ever get to a real life spy movie besides LARPing!” Keith exclaimed his revelation.  
“That’s so mean!” Lance giggled.  
Keith’s face softened as his small smile and eyes looked pleading. “I really need your help,” he whispered, breathing out. His hands slide across the table and squeezed Lance’s.  
Lance let out a long sigh as his head fell. It quickly perked back into proper posture positions as he declared, “Okay.”  
Keith grunted a small “yeah” and tried to shower Lance in thank yous, but he stopped him before he could even open his mouth.  
“On one condition!” he paused dramatically. “This case still reeks. I’m staying with you every step of the way to reassure no one dies.”  
“Totally reasonable,” Keith said.  
His eyes glimmered with hope and he felt his heart pound against his rib cage, as Lance was already knee deep in plans for Keith.  
“Where are you staying tonight?” Lance said before Keith could calm down completely. Still a little euphoric and with Lance’s suggestive tone of voice, he became flustered.  
“W-why?” he stuttered.  
“We get started right away,” Lance continued not realizing how flirtatious he can be, “cancel your reservations you're staying at mine and Hunk’s place.”  
“Oh--you and Hunk…” Keith tried to estimate but was interrupted by Lance’s laughter.  
“Please, honey, I couldn't get that lucky in a million years, but I'm not really his type. We're just old friends who live together and own a business together. He's ,my husband but not my husband, you know?” Lance explained.  
Just then, Hunk appeared from the kitchen with Lance’s jacket and ready to go. No one said a word as Lance slipped on his denim jacket and slid out the door, Keith and Hunk simply just followed. He continued to turn and lock the door to the bakery as the others exited and began walking down the street as if he were alone. Hunk and Keith continued to follow behind him like he had told them to without using words. Keith looked to Lance who was sauntering through the misty night, and his eyes darted to Hunk who just walked his normal route home closely behind Lance.  
“What is this?” Keith finally asked.  
“What do you mean?” Hunk asked.  
“You guys walk home in silence feet away from each other?” a baffled Keith asked.  
“Yeah. It's late, we're tired, these streets are always pretty at night, and we're each other witnesses if someone dies,” he explained.  
“Oh,” Keith choked. He continued to walk upwards with Hunk in silence. Hunk wanted to clarify that he wasn't trying to tell Keith off or telling him to shut up, but the silence between them was not uncomfortable. They both enjoyed each other’s quiet company.  
It was also a good time for Keith to think about his plan. Or make his plan, more like. He needed Lance in order to find Lotor, but he feared Lance didn't have the magic to turn Keith’s information into results. In addition, he had almost no information on Lotor. Just the name and the symbol on his knife.  
His heart sank as Keith realized his lack of plan. Maybe he could fabricate some fake information that sounds like a hint but has no actual substance. He could tell Lance that Lotor was a part of a large secret organization, or that he spends his spare time in brothels, or that he’s horribly addicted to drugs and spends his loads of money on high end heroin. Keith felt his heart shake and pound as Lance and Hunk led him up the stair to their apartment. He knew Lance would need more than a name and Keith’s strong belief in the case.  
As the roommates performed their coming home ritual of unlocking the door, turning on lights, greeting the eager and yapping Corgi, putting jackets away, and starting dinner in the kitchen, Keith remained frozen in the doorway. Lies continued to form in his head like, Lotor had gotten all his money from his huge inheritance, he had his headquarters located in Las Vegas, something that sounded like information that would lead to nowhere.  
Lance looked at a blank Keith, staring into the apartment from behind the threshold. “You can come in,” he said. “Are you a vampire and can't enter a home without being invited?”  
Keith let out an awkward and timid chuckle, making his discomfort obvious. Lance began, “Do you need a phone charger? You haven't called where ever you were staying to cancel the reservations.”  
“I--uh, didn't have anywhere to stay,” he answered.  
“Well, why don't you take a shower? There's fresh towels in the bathroom. When you're done, you can come out and have dinner, then we’ll start planning to find this ‘Lotor’ guy,” Lance suggested. Keith sensed pity in his request and felt a ping of anger towards Lance, but mostly regret and shame that he looked so obviously broken and pitiful.  
“Thanks,” Keith said with passive aggression in his voice. He lowered his head and headed towards the bathroom, not noticing Lance making suggestive faces and signals at him.  
“What's with that guy?”Lance angrily whispered at Hunk. He whispered not because he was scared Keith would hear him, but in a way to quietly scream.  
Keith sat on the lid of the toilet of the small bathroom. Hunk and Lance obviously had good taste in decorating to make their tiny apartment seem so spacious and modern, but the size of the bathroom closed in on Keith in his overwhelmed state. He thought his life plan was so clear, but he was running out of steps to follow. Survive foster care, collect information from anyone who had similar situations, collect enough money to act on his information, find Lance to help him, and discover what happened to his family. Why all he had was a knife, where his mother, father, and brother were. All he knew was to avenge and find his family.  
He knew ideas would come to him if he soaked under steaming water, but he couldn’t move. His feet were like anvils that were unable to move from where they were because of the weight he felt on his shoulders. Keith’s hair was spun around his fingers that were clutching his head with his elbows on his knees. When he felt like his brain was flattened and knotted, he realized what he needed. He finally felt his chest unbind as he heaved out tears.  
So much had happened, he never had anytime to think it through. Now, understanding his state and the gravity of the situation was overwhelming. He wasn't sad, or angry, he just needed some release from the constant danger he felt. It had helped, even though it was shaky and uneven breathing, it still felt like the first time he breathed in months. He laughed when he began thinking that maybe Hunk and Lance could hear their guest, who was a total stranger, sobbing in their bathroom. He finally regained his ability to breath, and undress, and shower.  
“So who's Lotor?” Hunk asked after Lance had explained why he felt confident that Keith wouldn't kill them.  
“I can't even begin to imagine,” Lance said, sitting at the counter as Hunk prepared their meal. “I mean, this edge lord rolls into my fine, wholesome, establishment, expecting me to carry out his mysterious deeds! What am I going to do?” Lance asked.  
“Well, you already agreed to help him,” Hunk began.  
“Oh, don't start!” Lance interrupted.  
“Start what? I'm just saying reminding you, it's not like you had no choice,” Hunk shrugged.  
It was true. Lance had to face that this was in fact voluntary. From the information he had, he could already tell this would be his last peaceful night for a while. There was something about Keith that was similar to multitudes of people who would come to Lance for help, perhaps it was the withholdingness. But Lance had always turned away that type, Keith was the first to return. And how could Lance say no, with Keith’s desperate eyes and obvious containment of how much energy he really has. It was too cute.  
When the cursed words floated through Lance’s mind, Keith came into the kitchen with grey sweatpants, a white t shirt, and wet, stringy hair. He was adorable.  
“Why are your eyes so bloodshot?” Lance asked in an accusatory tone.  
“Oh, sorry, I just like hot showers,” Keith said. It was the truth, Lance could tell from his red skin, but it was also an excuse. “Seriously?” Keith asked sarcastically when he saw the dinner spread.  
This unusual reaction to Hunk’s food made Lance a little defendant, but it made Hunk burst with laughter. “Thursday, we eat rice and vegetables. This was planned, it has nothing to do with you,” he laughed.  
“Oh, nice, I love rice and vegetables,” Keith said and sat down and ate all the food in front of him, and then some more as Lane and Hunk continued to share pleasant details of their day.  
“So you do,” Lance replied to Keith’s statement only an hour later. Keith didn't even pretend to be polite, he just focused on his devouring.  
The tension of the room shifted as the night concluded with Hunk and the corgi going to his room to go to sleep. Lance walked mystically towards the couches and picked up a tray from under the coffee table. Keith took this as a hint to sit down with him, so he sat on the large comfy chair seared next to the side of the couch Lance was on. Lance’s hands began to place herb on cigarette paper and he rolled it to smoke. When what was green was now delicately rolled in white and Lance licked the end of the paper with a flick of his tongue to seal it. He lit the end with a knot around it and watched it burn until he blew out the flame, and put the opposite end in his mouth. Smoke disappeared, then reappeared as it leaked from his mouth. He then held out the joint to Keith, who hesitantly accepted it.  
“So,” Lance began as Keith took his first inhale, “who’s Lotor?”  
The question rang through Keith’s ears and he choked on the cloud of smoke he had just inhaled. “What?” he asked in a hoarse voice.  
“Who's Lotor,” Lance repeated just as cool as before.  
“He's--um,” Keith stuttered dumbly, “you know, the guy I'm paying to find.”  
Lance stared at him with a dumbfounded and unentertained look with Keith idiocy. “I’ll admit it, this is the first time I'm hearing the name Lotor so I assume it's unpopular, but I need some more information to find him. Like, is Lotor a first name or last name?”  
That had never even occurred to Keith, who felt like he was going to vomit. He shook and rubbed his arms nervously, ready to burst. “I honestly don't have much information about him-” he began but stopped to check Lance’s reaction, who was shockingly calm, “but, I have this.” Keith pulled the knife from his boot and unwrapped the gauze to reveal the strange looking symbol that looked like a character from a different alphabet. In terms of the English alphabet, it somewhat resembled a lowercase “p” that was written down quickly by someone with already bad handwriting.  
Lance lifted the knife and inspected it before saying, “alright, I’ll ask Pidge in the morning.” Keith felt a large weight leave his chest as he began to believe in Lance’s capabilities. However, his face told a different story as Lance responded to his reaction by getting a pillow and blanket from the closet that was in between Lance’s and Hunk’s room and said, “I know you want to get started right away, but tonight is the last night we may get to enjoy sleep, so take it.”


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance begin their investigation and begin to lose hope when they begin to understand the reality of their situation. They need to find help, but where? Find out on *bum bum bum* KLANCE: NEW ORLEANS (I’ve gotteb super invested in this fic lmao)

Keith awoke to tiny paws pressing deep into his stomach and the smell of waffles. Lance had told him to enjoy his sleep, but it felt impossible considering he was waking up at half past five in the morning. True that he never had a normal sleep schedule, but no matter how crazy things got 5 a.m. was never a time to awake to. Yet, the apartment was filled with the smell of breakfast and happy morning chatter. He rolled and carried his bones to the kitchen counter they ate at the night before.  
Goop held his eyelashes together and blurred his vision, leaving Hunk and Lance’s giggles a mystery. After he rubbed his eyes until he regained vision, he saw the ginger corgi standing on the kitchen stool sat on, whining with Keith out of reach.  
“Come on, Buba!” Lance beckoned the dog as he picked him up.  
“Lance, no I told you not to-” but Hunk’s warning was cut off by Lance’s yelps to control the squirming dog as Buba began to steal pieces of bacon. He seemed unconcerned by being put down so gracelessly, as he continued to chew any left over bacon in his mouth.  
“Buba?” Keith asked, not even acknowledging Lance’s stupidity.  
“It's short for Bubbles,” Hunk answered.  
“That's adorable,” he laughed.  
“It was Lance's idea to call him Buba,” he redirected the attention on him to Lance as he slipped out to go open the bakery. It was then that Keith noticed how different Lance looked today.  
“Why aren't you going to work?” he asked.  
“I'm not taking any work, I said I'm on this case,” he explained.  
“Oh, I didn't know that means you have to turn away other jobs,” Keith said somewhat apologetically.  
“Well, not usually. Usually, you'd work from person to person that you're sent to, but you're sketchy, remember? So you're staying with me.” Keith didn't reply or smartly retort, so Lance looked to him. His head was pointed down and his face was painted with remorse as his shoulders held guilt on top of them. Lance snapped his head back in place so he wasn't looking at Keith when he said, “and I couldn't resist such an adventure. You got that kind of vibe,” he said.  
“What ‘vibe’,” Keith asked extremely confused.  
“You know, I think we’ll make a good tea. I just feel like I'm going to be brought to brink of life and be pulled back with you. Like when you're a kid, and you play tag, and you're running away feeling scared for your life, but you still know you're not going to die, so you're laughing really hard-” Lance stopped. What was he saying? Why couldn't he just stop and let Keith maybe be sad. This idea to make him feel better by telling him he had a good “vibe” was the most under thought idea he ever had, and he essentially turned himself into the police when he became Officer Shiro’s informant.  
Lance eyes slowly twitched towards Keith to check his reaction, and Lance was surprised to see Keith extremely flattered. He had begun to realize he paused for too long. What was he supposed to do now, make out with him? “Oh my god, no, where did that thought come from,” Lance’s eyes screamed as he took his phone from his jacket pocket and began to text Pidge to come over.  
He finally acknowledged the silence when he slipped his phone back in his pocket with a lot of motion, just to make it obvious he was just texting. “Sorry,” Lance excused himself, “I wasn't really paying attention to what I was saying, I was--yeah, I was texting. You know-when you...like zone out on your phone? Do you remember what I was saying?”  
Keith had his burning red cheeks buried in his hands, he was an idiot who never knew how to respond to compliments and what he just received was a character analysis and admiration. “No. It wasn't important,” he spat.  
They sat in silence not knowing the other was lying.   
Lance returned to his phone and pretended to be busy to avoid the awkwardness, but was really only waiting for Pidge to reply. Sliding back and forth between the home pages of his phone as Keith broke the silence from time to time with a nervous cough, wishing he had charged his phone.  
“Umm-” Lance began. “I'm sorry but this seems like a good time, I need a down payment of about, five thousand dollars.”  
“Of course,” Keith said as he took out cash from his bag and rested it on the table in front him and sunk back into silence.  
Lance awkwardly collected and counted the bills and walked into his room to put them away. He returned to Keith still sitting and lost and thought, looking out the window. Once again, Lance sat and pretended to be busy on his phone.  
Pidge finally broke the silence, but by coming in a mess through the front door, which horrified them both. Keith stood still in his fright stricken stare and Lance frantically checked his phone’s settings to check if there was a reason he didn't get s text from Pidge. He had known why he didn't get a text from Pidge, but he didn't want to believe it.  
“I can't believe the technic wonder child can't fucking text back!” Lance exclaimed.  
“This is the day of the week I actually do things,” Pidge vaguely explained. She turned to Keith and gave him an over excited handshake, “I’m Pidge.”  
Keith studied her face and looked to Lance to announce, “I’m really not cool with you dragging some kid into this.”  
Soon as the words left his mouth, Lance began to roar with laughter, and very shortly begin to wipe tears, as Pidge hissed and growled “shut up!” as her only defense. She then decided to use her fists to gently tap Keith’s shoulder for embarrassing her and to swing a full punch on Lance’s bicep, ceasing his laughter with exclamations of pain.  
“It's none of your business, and I really don't care if you believe me, but I'm 20,” she corrected him.  
Keith decided not to reply as he saw Lance’s hurt face checking to see if his arm was bruised. He just nodded and decided to sit in the background of this meeting. Unfortunately, that wouldn't be possible since the subject.  
“Lance says you have a name and a symbol,” Pidge said to Keith.  
“Oh!” Keith gasped as he realized he was, in fact, the center of the meeting. They had shared awkward moments of silence because of Keith. He shuffled through his backpack at the foot of the couch to retrieve his knife. He panicked as he couldn't find it, knowing he was lengthening the awkward silence. There it was, ironically, right by his Zoloft bottle that he made a mental note of.  
Pidge gently carried the knife by the handle as handed it to her. She held it like she was holding precious, already broken glass. From behind her thick glasses, her eyes bulged as she analyzed, not only the symbol, but the structure and material of the knife. There was something about the shape of the blade, and the material of the encrypted symbol, that was obviously unique.  
“Hmm,” she hummed. “That symbol is super distinct. It has no indications that it's from a language and its unlike any code I've ever seen. So I bet its representation symbol for some club or cult or something. Here,” she sat on the two person couch next to Keith and took her stickered laptop from her bag, “I bet I kind find something on it.  
The room went silent, except for the ticking and tacking Pidge’s fingers did across her keyboards. Keith tried to understand as she took pictures, sent them, uploaded them, and found her way from link to link, each more useful than the other. She'd receive on small hint, that would lead her to another hint, to another. It was like the least satisfying puzzle ever made. He looked to Lance, awaiting some instructions on how to act, but he was just as captivated as Keith. Understanding technology to the extent that Pidge did could only be described as pure talent and dedication.  
“Alright,” was all Lance and Keith needed to hear to lunge towards her with full focus, which frightened her. “Um-okay, I need just another half hour.”  
“How do you know?” Keith asked.  
“Well, I found a lot on the knife and symbol. It seems to be a symbol for a…collection of people,” she explained.  
“Like, a cult?” Keith gasped.  
“Well-uh--I don't really know yet. They seem to be really secretive, I don't even have a name yet. They have no information online, whatsoever,” she was interrupted by a defeated sigh from Keith. “But, it seems like if you have certain instructions, you can be lead from link to link with each link hiding a clue of where to find them and the next link. Usually, it might take ten minutes, but I don't have the instructions, so I think it’ll take triple the time.”  
Lance planted his lips on her forehead and made a loud mua, “Pidge, you are the best! We’ll get dressed.”  
“You should have done that before you had company,” she called as they exited the room.  
Lance boomeranged around back into the living room to shout, “YOU DIDN’T SAY YOU WERE COMING!”  
“Oh, right,” she laughed.   
From behind the bathroom door, Keith thought the encounter was really funny and wished he had witnessed himself. He ducked his head under the sink and filled his mouth with water from the faucet. His pursed his lips so the water would stay contained in his mouth as he searched his backpack for his medicine he had just seen. When he found the bottle, he fished out a pill and tilted his head back to take it, but choked on the water.  
Since he hated the texture of his pill, he decided to take it with water but stupidly filled his cheeks and mouth with water. He spat water from his mouth and nose onto his shirt. He coughed out the rest of the water when Lance came in.  
“What the fuck, I leave your side for two seconds and you already die. I said NO deaths!” Lance lectured.  
Keith simply just laughed and took his shirt off to use as a napkin and close the door. “Okay, Mom,” he taunted from behind the door. Pidge watched a stiff and flustered Lance march back into his room.  
When Keith, fully dressed and well packed, stepped out of the bathroom, he saw Pidge working away and Lance sitting on the comfortable chair by the couch on his phone. He couldn’t help but immediately notice Lance’s new style, he couldn't even stop himself from asking, “why are you wearing-” he stopped himself.  
“Remember, we talked about this. Today, you're cross-dressing. You must have remembered, because you're wearing leggings,” Lance smartly retorted.   
“These aren't-” Keith said but stopped again. They were tight, but still stretchy. Has he been wearing leggings?  
“If they're jeans, those are the tightest jeans I've ever seen,” he snorted, “could you look gayer?”  
“I hope! I hate when people think I'm straight,” Keith cued all the gays to start screaming and squealing with laughter. Pidge laid on the couch and Lance curled up on the ground. Keith didn't think it was that funny, but he had to laugh. They're laughs were too contagious.   
As Pidge heaved and panted and struggled to sit back at her computer, she wheezed, “we just--lost so much--time,” and continued to work while ignoring her aching sides.  
Lance was still giggling and trying to catch his breath when they heard a printer buzz. Pidge took the two pieces of paper and distributed them both to Lance and Keith and sat back down and waited for them to have questions after they finished reading them.  
It was a black and white piece of paper with random clip out pictures that Pidge added on as a joke, that also included instructions that weren’t clear to Keith, who didn't live in New Orleans. Lance, though, already began envisioning their route to take. Pidge knew her audience and wrote the instructions so clearly, that Keith could even understand where to go if he had his phone, which was charging at that moment. Though directions, instructions, addresses, and any additional information that could be useful, like which entrance to take into the St. Louis church, both Keith and Lance shared one question.  
“What's the Blade of Marmora?” they asked, almost simultaneously.  
“I looked into it as much as I could, but all I got is that they're this organization that created that symbol to represent them. It doesn't look like any books or culture have adapted the mark, so it'd only be used for the Marmora. I still have no idea what they do, though. They're good at covering their tracks,” she said and got up to leave. “I promised Hunk I'd help him set up his site today.”  
“Wait, Pidge,” Lance called. “One more question. Why'd you give us print out?”  
Pidge simply laughed, “you've been on your phone this whole time, and this dummy plugged his phone just a half hour ago. I like tech, but unlike you, I don't rely on it.”  
She smirked and gave a giggly goodbye.   
“Don't forget to check the crazy lady’s novel and see what you can do about it!” Lance pleaded as she slammed the door.  
The two sat in a moment of silence.  
“We’ll go,” Lance paused, “after we charge our phones.”  
Inevitably, Pidge was right. They were only half way through the list before Keith’s android shut down. They were in the middle of Bourbon Street, calm in the middle of the sea of rabid tourists. Keith was rather agitated by the characters who would invade his personal space, but Lance stayed steady. He was too focused on the instructions.  
“Why are these so damn cryptic!” Lance complained. “We have to ‘find the tree on Bourbon and St. Peter’s with the most beads,’ why do we have to do that?” They began walking towards the intersection and slowly studying the trees on the sidewalk.  
Though Keith honestly loved solving puzzles common to this, this specific scavenger hunt had become tedious. Each clue bringing them barely closer but how even the smallest bits were vital. The only information they had acquired that wasn't on the sheet Pidge had given them were custom pins, other symbols, and scrap papers with phrases that seemed to be some secret code. All they acquired, they kept in Keith’s backpack.  
“Maybe we can skip that one,” Keith suggested. “What's the next step?”  
Lance scoffed at the paper, “‘enigma machine at National WWII Museum,’ does she know that's two and a half miles away from here? It's going to take us all day to even finish this list. But I do think we have to follow the steps in order, remember she said something about that?”  
Keith sighed, “true. How long do jobs like this usually take?”  
“Hmm?” Lance asked. He wasn't really used to people actually asking about him, he'll usually just tell them his life story with no warning. “Well, because I'm best at what I do, I like to have projects at least 95% done a week after it has been assigned.”  
“Wow, you're efficient,” Keith complimented. He didn't like talking all that much, but he didn't like awkward silences, either. He felt like he didn't know Lance well enough to share a moment of comfortable silence with him. So, after Lance agreed with Keith, that he was good at his job, Keith didn't reply. Just to see if he could stand the lack of exchange.  
Lance must have been really focused on finding the tree with the most beads, Keith thought, because neither of them made hesitant small talk. They scanned the branches of the skinny trees when they arrived on the corner of St. Peter and Bourbon, outside a bar called Cat’s Meow.  
Just outside the bar, there was a tree that didn't resemble the others. All the others stood with wires holding them upright, but this tree stood strong and mighty. It would be impossible to even see the amount of beads that had been flung in the tree if you weren't standing under it. As the thought passed through his head, Keith lead Lance towards the tree.   
As they stood by the trunk and cranked their necks 90 degrees to see the branch directly above them covered in Mardi Gras beads that lay next to each other making a hammock. In the hammock of necklaces, there was a plastic baggy with an envelope containing multiple slips of the same paper.  
They took one slip and analyzed it from Lance’s hand. One the top was “1/5/17” and an assortment of different letters, looking like words but horribly disfigured. Lance grunted from behind clenched teeth and Keith watched to see what Lance’s reaction to be. To his surprise, Lance simply combed his fingers through his hair, sighed, and smiled.  
“Let’s catch a cab to the World War II Museum,” he sighed.  
All Lance had to do was lean into the street before a cab picked them up. Keith rested his head on the window to allow Lance to have access to his backpack and slip the sheet of paper into the front pocket with the rest of their clues. Even though he heard the zipper close, Keith didn't turn back around, with his chin comfortably resting in his palm. He enjoyed the views, but Lance’s frustration brought about a tension within the cab that Keith couldn't continue to ignore.  
“Are you okay? Keith asked. “You seem pretty bummed.”  
“I'm fine, it's just-” Lance hesitated, “I haven't worked ‘in the field’ in a long time. I forgot how it can be.”  
“Sometimes,” Keith began, “it just be like that.”  
Lance snorted and snickered, even the cab driver giggled a little. Keith didn't think he was too good at comforting people, but Lance immediately began to radiate life and joy again.  
“Yeah, that's true,” Lance continued to snicker.  
Before the cab drove off, Keith handed him cash and tip for the ride. The pair made signals and used their eyes as mouths to decide how to find the enigma machine. Lance nodded his head towards the fee collector and wiggled his eyebrows, insisting they ask someone who worked there for directions. Keith shook his head and pointed his chin toward the exhibits, assuring Lance they could find it on their own. Still, Keith had to go to the intimidating employee behind the glass and pay him for two tickets. Keith signaled to Lance to wait by the entrance of the tour while he bought the tickets, but Lance drifted around the hall with the in between the fee collector and the entrance. It seemed far enough away so that Lance wouldn't ask him for help.  
The man behind the glass was even scarier as Keith approached him. He seemed seven feet tall and had a thin gray buzz cut with uneven, splotchy colored skin. The shaky feeling left Keith as he walked away from the transaction but was only replaced with a frozen feeling as he saw Lance sprinting towards him and only stopped himself from tumbling into Keith by grabbing the steel ledge in front of the glass. He caught his breath with one dramatic gasp and exhaled, almost yelling, “where’s the enigma machine?” The man took a moment to silently mock a blushing Keith as Lance was leaning into him.  
“I'll show you,” he said and walked out the door next to the glass.  
He lead them through to the end of the tour and the two walked next to each other a few feet behind. When it became clear they might be walking for a while, Keith decided to let Lance know, in a hushed voice, “you know, if you wanted to ask for directions so bad, I would have let you. You didn't have to dramatically contradict me.”  
“I like to think,” Lance whispered in reply, “my extra-ness is a big part of my success.”  
“Ok, Mr. Successful, what's the step after this?” Keith asked, as his instruction were in his bag.  
“After this-” Lance looked at the list and whined as he read it. “Buy drink at the Cat’s Meow, the place we were just at.”  
“Oh, my God, no,” Keith choked. “I get that I have to pay for taxis and museum tickets, but I'm not going to have enough money to pay you if I spend it all on taxis.”  
“I know,” Lance sighed. “We’ll figure it out.”  
They looked up from their little huddle and noticed the intimidating employee was further ahead. He must have noticed they were having a private conversation and decided to give them space. They walked faster to follow him into a room that looked like a personal library. Behind a few bookshelves, they arrived at different machines including one that looked like a typewriter.  
“Here it is,” the man patted it. “Let us know if you have anymore question,” he said as he scurried off. They both thought it was odd he didn't linger even for a moment to hear questions, but it wasn't odd enough to mention out loud.  
They wished they had said something about his disappearance as they approached the machine and noticed the difficulty of it. It looked like a typewriter, with a second keyboard that had lights to light up random letters, and three dials with a variety of numbers. Keith hit the “w” key and the second keyboard lit up the letter “g”. He turned to dial around and continued to test the machine, but could find no correlation between the glowing numbers and the dials.  
“Wait,” Lance rested his hand on Keith’s to stop him. He turned the three dials and hit the “y” key and watched the “j” key light up. Once he released the key and the “j” light clicked off, he watched the far left dial turn from 14 to 15. He clicked the “y” key again and watched the “d” key light up, and watched the dial change from 15 to 16 as he released the key. Lance then turned the dial back to 14 and hit the “y” key again and watched the “j” key light up the way it did before. “Oh, my God, I figured it out.”  
Lance grabbed the slip of paper and changed the dial to the code in the corner, that he originally thought was a date: 1, 5, and 17. He began typing in each letter that was written down, and began writing the correlating letters that would light up. As Keith gasped, realizing how the machine worked, Lance slid him the paper to continue copying the lit up letters to help. When the last letter lit up, the code on the paper read, “order the purple Russian.”  
They panted and celebrated this rewarding hint. Keith halted his dancing when he remembered that he had to go all the way back to Bourbon Street. As Lance noticed, Keith simply gave him a disappointed look.  
“Ah, don't worry, little buddy,” Lance said wrapping his arm around Keith's shoulders. “We can walk, it'll only take an hour and it's only noon.”  
“Yeah, okay!” Keith agreed.   
They walked out the way they came in, as the arrows posted around the museum directed them so. Lance made a half turn to say goodbye and thank you to the man selling tickets, but there was a new employee there. This man was clearly different, even from far away, looking stout and hairy and essentially the opposite. Lance shrugged and continued outside, still leaning his arm around Keith.   
As they tuned the corner to go down the ramp, Lance saw the museum employee, waiting. Before he noticed, Lance took his arm off Keith and pushed him behind the wall where he wouldn't be visible. He didn't know why, but that was his natural reaction. He felt that what the man was waiting for was Lance and Keith. To soften the inevitable encounter, Lance slowly approached him.  
“I wanted to thank you before we left, but my friend is still inside-” Lance was cut off by the employee pushing him against the brick wall. Everything in Keith wanted to intervene, but he knew Lance pushed him back because he might need to get help. However, he had to wait to measure the desperation of the situation to see who would be most appropriate to involve.  
“You weren't on your way to Cat’s Meow, were you?” the man asked.  
“Um-I don't really know, my friend was going to pick where we go for lunch,” Lance lied.  
“Don't play stupid, kid, I've been expecting you all day. All I even needed was a fucking google alert to see someone was interested in the Blade of Marmora in New Orleans. I don't even know where to begin-” he tightened his grip on Lance.  
Keith decided it was time to intervene and he knew exactly who to involve. He took the knife from his pack and lunged towards the giant man with no fear. He slid his foot in between the man’s and and Lance’s ankles and elbowed Lance out of his grip. Now, with Keith pressed to the wall and with the man still off guard, Keith pushed his shoulder to spin him around so that he was slammed against the wall. Still, the man just smiled.  
“What do you know about the Blade?” Keith demanded.  
“Vrepit Sa,” he simply replied.  
Keith loosened the grasp on his knife in shock. He ignored his hostage and retrieved a slip of paper he had acquired earlier in the hunt that said those exact words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on spring break with my sister but I do intend to keep updating every Sunday. Next update: 2/18/18


	3. Team vs Marmora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance are getting a lot ,ore answers but it takes a lot of work.

Lance let out an annoyed sigh, “so the whole things was some wild goose chase? Are you serious, Ulaz?”  
He replied with a regretful nod. The sun through the window shaded the lines on his tensed forehead. He seemed so apologetic about attacking Lance, he even offered to buy coffee for them both. “All the places you visited would have triggered Blade of Marmora members to interrogate you if any of those members at the stops were alive. I suppose I'm the first living member the list lead you to.”  
“Dude, yours was like-the eleventh step,” Lance said.  
“I do suppose, we should update our codes,” he noted. “Why are you looking for information through the internet when you are a member yourself.”  
“I'm not,” Keith answered. “My dad gave this to me before we were separated.”  
“I see,” Ulaz seemed to shrink. “Well, that knife does make you an honorary member, as a member deemed you trustworthy, but if you are trying to find him,” he paused, “he's probably dead.”  
There was a stiff silence, Lance looked at Keith through his peripheral vision. To his surprise, Keith was calm and collected, no visible change. He continued to talk in his normal voice, “is Lotor still alive?”  
Ulaz sighed in reply. “Killing Lotor won't bring your father back.”  
“I don't plan on finding my father or killing Lotor,” Keith snapped. “You really should stop being so presumptuous. I had a brother as well, and he wasn't much older than me so he must have gotten put into a different foster home or something. He was way too young to be dragged into this Blade junk.”  
With each new word spoken and more information came into light, Lance became even more confused than before. He wondered why Keith didn't just ask to find his brother unless he really did want to kill Lotor, and what happened to Keith and his family, but one question entered his mind and exited through his mouth, “what does the Blade even do?”  
Keith was shocked. What his parents, presumably, have died for never crossed his mind. He looked to Ulaz for answers who looked exhausted by simple questions with such complicated answers.  
He took a long breath in a rubbed his forehead to begin. “The Blade of Marmora has existed since the beginning of organized authority. It has a way of infecting people and corrupting them or sometimes awakening a darkness. To stay this way, leaders will surround themselves with other corrupt people making the leader more powerful. These people that worked with them were too distracted with their fake power to even notice what they worshipped was evil. The Blade was made from people who had power and awoke to their ignorance or children of previous members who have sworn to continue their parents mission.”  
Lance checked on Keith through his peripheral vision again, put fully spun around to face him when Lance saw Keith’s confused and distraught face. He grabbed Keith's hands and stroked his thumb against them as he saw his lip tremble. “He was just a rancher, though. And my mom--I didn't even know her. how did they get roped into this? Who--?” He was angry and aghast.   
“I'm sorry. I have lost many friends and family because of the terrible injustice, but you must remember that we are not the enemy-” but Ulaz was interrupted by an angry grunt from Keith, who walked out to the parking lot as tears began running down his cheeks and was followed by Lance. Ulaz, however, continued to sit at the diner booth.  
Keith made it to the sidewalk outside the restaurant before Lance stopped him. His thumb was pressed between his eyebrows as an attempt to alleviate the headache that crying caused him. He used the rest of his hand to cover his face, as he was embarrassed how many tears could fall. Lance squeezed him by his biceps and traveled his hands down to Keith's forearms.   
“Hey, buddy, what's wrong?” he asked.  
“Just--” he gasped and gargled as he caught his breath. “The gravity of the situation. It's just...so much more than I expected. Secret agencies and this trail of blood behind me, you know? How long has my family been involved in the Blade? Did my dad join after he did something when he was in authority, or even my mom? I thought finding Lotor would end this chapter of my life, but it is my life and I can't avoid that,” he continued to upset himself as he heard his worst fears audibly and continued to sob.   
The first movement Keith made to break free, Lance turned into a tight hug. It was so new, people always knew to leave Keith alone like he wanted, but he began to think that was nice, too. It was more than nice, he quickly grew to think maybe he was a hugger if all hugs were like this. Keith always had headaches when he had panic attacks that gradually lighten, but he felt his brain unravel and worries float from his shoulders that he didn't even know was there. He finally hugged Lance back and rested his head on his shoulder until his breathing regulated.  
As he rose his head, Keith let out a long sigh that turned into a laugh. “Oh, my God,” he said. “It's like my worst nightmare and best dream had a disfigured baby that fabricated into my real life. I'm living a conspiracy!”  
“Those aren't usually words that people shout,” Lance said. “And especially never that happy.”  
Ulaz walked a sort of military walk. “Keith, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-” but he stopped as a happier, seemingly new, Keith interrupted.  
“Don't even apologize, you've been a big help,” he smiled.   
“I want to be of more assistance,” Ulaz insisted. “Allow me to offer my hospitality and information.”   
“Oh, well, I could use the information but I think,” Keith turned to Lance to read his reaction. Lance was shrugging and insisting that it was Keith’s decision. “I'm staying with him.”  
“I see, and I'm sure your father would approve of-” Ulaz paused not knowing how to go about accepting someone else’s child for them.  
“No!” Keith yelped before he had to continue. “I mean, I am...gay, but not with him.”  
“Nonetheless, any parent in the Blade would be proud of their child hunting for the truth,” Ulaz smiled. “Please, allow me to drive you home.”  
Wanting to leave the end the conversation with that nice sentiment, they walked back to his silver car in silence until Lance had to give directions. When they pulled out of the parking lot, Ulaz began talking again.  
“I do have urgent information on Lotor,” he confessed.  
“You do!” Keith exclaimed. Lance felt his heart pound, but continued to play it cool.  
Ulaz was still primarily focused on safely driving. His monstrous hands were tightly gripping ten and two on the steering wheel. When the pair expected him to speak, he continued to slowly inhaling and exhaling like he was preparing himself. “Last I heard of Lotor--all I've heard of Lotor, is that his dad is a corrupt police chief of a New Orleans precinct. He mostly worked with working on the outside of police departments, gets his hands dirty and works undercover for them. I happen to work with the division of Marmora that tries to protect our police officers. Lotor, however, hasn't been on the field much. I've become suspicious about what he's been up to as we start hearing his name less at Marmora meetings.  
“At our last meeting, we explained that a few of his old team members are in town. We don't know if they're still in touch with Lotor, or what they're planning, or even if they're planning, but they're in the city and we know what they're doing tonight.”  
Keith and Lance waited at the edge of their awaiting the answer but were only welcomed by silence. Because they had begun to understand Ulaz, they assumed he was taking a pause or collecting his words, but Ulaz’s lips stayed sealed. Keith's fingers began curling into the leather seats and Lance tried to signal their impatience by bouncing his leg until the car began to rock. “WHAT?” Keith finally exploded, shaking Lance a little.  
“They're going to the 59th precinct to pick something up from a contact. The Blade is currently...dwindling so we decided that we didn't have enough man power to taken them on, but maybe if you joined us, we could take them down and you could find Lotor,” he suggested.  
“Yes,” Keith immediately accepted.  
“No!” Lance declined the same moment as Keith. “No one is dying.”  
“Correct,” Ulaz said. “All we need is to know what they are planning to do in New Orleans. Though a Blade member would never hesitate to kill for freedom, we do not condone needless violence.”  
They sat in silence considering their offer. Well, Keith waited for Lance’s answer, as he knew it was his call. Well, Keith would probably still do what he wanted with or without Lance’s approval. But he knew as long as Keith needed Lance, he needed his approval.  
“Who's they,” Lance asked instead. “I get that there's corrupt government...people but are they in organizations like the Blade? Why is there a team of people and so much organization? Who is it that you're fighting-”  
“Look, kid!” Ulaz sternly groaned, causing Lance to shut his mouth and shrink. “I've been doing this for--years. I've dedicated my entire life to this. I know that as long as I live, I will never actually benefit from my work, and I still don't know what's going on!” Ulaz had lost his patience, though he didn't mean to. He took a deep breath and continued.  
“They're the ‘Galra’ and it stands for ‘Government Asserts Legislative and Radical Arrests’ and they're responsible for good people going to jail so the bad people don't have to be. They're high up, you can never even repeat the name, and we can't always get a whole lot of information on them. The Blade seems intense, but it's a sewing club compared to the Galra. We need some extra help and you need information. What do you say?” Ulaz began to slow down as he was outside Lance's place.  
Lance was still embarrassed that he got yelled at for his amount of talking but he managed to maturely put it behind him and agree. “But by help, what do you plan to have us to do?”  
Ulaz began to explain the common strategies used in the Blade. Though the group is reaching lower and lower numbers due to the casualty rate, these techniques have proven to be much more successful by cross referencing who died on which missions. Ulaz explained how stealth missions proved most efficient, always completing the mission with all members still alive. Apparently tonight, including Ulaz, Keith, and Lance, there would only be four of them to capture the team of rumored four.  
Because they are less likely to be known by the team, Ulaz admitted that he needed Keith and Lance to be the bait. To locate and follow the team members, which of course the team would notice, so to lead the team members to Ulaz and his partner to corner and question them. Lance could sense Keith’s eagerness and it terrified him.  
He, of course, was no stranger to crime life but never so recklessly. Lance knew Ulaz had a perfect plan that had been proven safe times before, he never had to be so upfront and present at the crime scene. He usually just illegally talked to people, not followed them and lead them to traps. It was an overwhelming transition that Keith had anticipated and hoped for.  
He saw finding Lotor as a cathartic end to his childhood. That Keith would become an adult when he ended his childhood by avenging his family, and wanted the adventure to be exciting. He had gone through every horrible foster home, realizing he was gay, losing his whole family, alone and storing his anger for this very moment.  
The pair left Ulaz’s car after discussing their plan over a few times and began to follow his instructions. Focusing on the mission lasted only a short time until they saw Hunk and Pidge sitting at the kitchen counter. Hunk was icing cupcakes and Pidge was reading the manuscript that the crazy woman had brought Lance.  
“What are you two doing here?” Lance excitedly asked.  
“I let Shay take over after lunch to get Pidge’s opinion on some recipes I've been working on. I bet she's never told you she has a perfect pallet,” Hunk explained as Pidge pushed his arm for complimenting her.  
“What are you two criminals up to?” Pidge asked.  
“Wer’e not criminals!” Lance stomped his foot.  
Pidge looked at Keith and he felt the bond, “we’re going to capture and question bad guys with a secret society.”  
Hunk’s jaw dropped and Pidge nodded. Hunk knew that Lance could get in bad places and help hopeless people, but this was something else. It seemed huge but no one else seemed to care. He wanted to vomit, but choked it down and shook it off.   
Lance watched his best friend have an internal crisis alone and felt his heart sink as he thought how disappointed his family would be. He regret the thought as tear immediately flooded his eyes, but he shook them away and laughed instead. “Yeah, so that’s happening!” he clapped and cackled nervously, trying to hide his shattered soul. “We’re going to get ready,” he speed walked to his room as Keith followed close behind him.   
Keith had no idea that Lance was hurt, but he heard him say “we” so he assumed that Lance was inviting Keith into his room. Lance jumped and silently screamed as he turned around from closing his bedroom door to Keith looking confused.   
“You need a bell,” Lance chuckled as he wiped the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffled.   
Keith finally understood that he wasn't meant to see this, but he was. “Oh!” he jumped, “I'm sorry, I-I-I-”  
“Don't,” Lance smiled with tears in his eyes, like rain on a sunny day. “Apologize, you did nothing wrong.” That was technically not true, but Lance wasn't about to get all emotional.  
Keith still continued to stutter and twitch until he reached his arms around Lance and held him in a secure hug. As Lance happily sighed in his shoulder, Keith stifled thrusting his fist up and celebrating making the right choice. He never knew appropriate times to hug, it was only never or always.  
As they heard the hinges squeak with Hunk opening the door, they panicked and tried to move away. They stupidly tried to go the same direction, and rammed their skulls against each other. Before Hunk could see the scene, he heard calls of pain and pleads for help. They're dramatic droning was too funny, along with seeing them sprawled across the floor, for Hunk not to burst with laughter.  
The incident was too embarrassing to avoid in conversation, so instead they did not convert while getting ready. The only words that were exchanged was Keith asking where Lance kept something and Lance telling him where it was. The silence made Keith wonder what they would have talked about if they didn't talk about Hunk walking in on, not only a hug, but a hug gone wrong. Lance couldn't stop thinking about all the things that could gone wrong, of course. Keith and him only had ten minutes for “dinner” (if you could call it that, Hunk was out) because Lance spent most of the time they had double checking and triple checking everything was in place.  
They only talked as they sat on Lance’s front step as they waited for Ulaz, who was late. Keith looked at the reflective and colorful door bright up the night and asked, “why’s your door green?”  
Lance laughed, aghast, and asked, “how did you know that the door was green by my choice?”  
He shrugged and said, “it’s too bright, it's got to be yours.”  
Lance laughed again, this time mockingly. “Well, if you're still interested, it's because my favorite color is blue and Hunk’s is yellow, and when it's clear, you know? Like when I want or need someone to come to my house, I don't like giving out my exact address, so I just say ‘the green door on Sunset.’”  
“So, do you believe Ulaz about the Blade?” Keith asked giving Lance whiplash with the change subject.  
“UM--OKAy, I didn't know not believing him was an option,” Lance squealed and lowered himself.  
“I mean, I'm involved with...like, crime and shit but that's because of the places I spent my childhood in. If you had the chance to work inside the law and get money for it, why would you leave that and risk everything? I don't know, there could be something.”  
Ulaz pulled in front of the building and Lance stiffly followed Keith inside the back of the car. Lance curled his finger nails into his palms when a man even bigger and scarier than Ulaz turned around. He had fierce scars and markings everywhere, and was undeniably guilty of something, probably murder.  
“This is my accomplice, Kolivan. He's the leader of the New Orleans Blade,” Ulaz introduced.  
“Did you bring everything you were told to,” Kolivan barked in a grainy voice.  
“Yes,” Lance gasped and clutched the bag to show where everything was.  
They drove to the locations they had been told about before. There was a small village-like area where precinct 59 was located that Kolivan lived in. From what they discovered, the Galra team would split up around the village and meet the contact at the same time, but separately. They were, of course, in constant contact, but Ulaz and Kolivan had most of that covered. They had somehow been able to route sent messages to themselves and they figured out the radio waves they use on their radio. Keith and Lance were impressed by the technological efficiency of two seemingly older men.  
Ulaz and Kolivan would be hiding out by Kolivan’s work shed as Keith and Lance tricked team members to walk by the Blade members to capture them and hold them for questioning in said shed. The two would locate Galra members and send Lance and Keith to watch them until they noticed. Once the Galra would notice, they would notify their team that they were suspicious, describe the suspects, and would test their theory by walking and seeing if they follow. Of course, Keith and Lance would follow, as Ulaz told them to. The clever Galra will stop in their tracks and let Keith and Lance pass and proceed to follow them. Keith and Lance would lead them by Kolivan’s house to allow Ulaz and Kolivan to capture them.   
Other than the basic kidnapping, the plan seemed non violent enough to work. It was only slightly physical, but Keith and Lance would have to participate in that part unless the Galra are good fighters. Lance sort of loved the plan, he had to have costume changes, it was clever like a mind game, and less violent than it seems. It reminded him of the theater, and he felt his heart warm. He calmed himself down with breath as he remembered the gravity of the situation.  
Lance and Keith slip out of the car on the top of the street and watched Ulaz and Kolivan drive off. They both wore all black clothing, their first disguise. Lance wore wired glasses that he had from when he like to look hipster and Keith wore Lance’s hipster-phase black beanie. They walked in the bar and sat on a worn-wooden table behind a girl with a long and swinging ponytail.   
Her eyes crinkled as she laughed and her hand delicately caressed the bar tenders. Ulaz and Kolivan recognized her as they drove by and alerted Keith and Lance. Busy blowing away every person at the bar, she didn't even notice the two sketchy characters behind her.  
To get her attention, Lance lowered his head and curled his hand around is mouth and whispered the word “Galra” until her neck snapped around, but didn't completely meet the pair. She played it off by smiling a little as she took out her phone to text. Almost as soon as she got up, Keith got a text from Ulaz letting them know that she notified the rest of her team that spies maybe following her. As she disappeared from going past the bar window on the sidewalk, Lance and Keith got up to follow her.  
After they exited the bar, they had seen her going directly down the street. As she crossed, they began walking in her foot prints. As she planned, she's approaching the location she needs to meet at, the 59th precinct. She has no idea that her route includes passing Kolivan’s house where Ulaz and Kolivan are ready to swiftly take her.  
Keith and Lance saw her swinging ponytail grow bigger as they approached her faster because she started to slow down. Before they could see their mistake, she swung her arm around behind her and got a hold of Lance’s neck. Keith tried to help him by fighting back, but when he raised his arm to attack, she elbowed him in his waist. Lance struggled to loosen her hold and Keith tried to regain his breath as Ulaz and Kolivan grabbed her from behind and ran off into Kolivan's gated backyard and in the shed. The two scrawnier men followed behind the huge ones to the shed.  
Kolivan threw her down, disarmed her by binding her arms, and barked, “what are you planning?”  
Though she was tightly bound, she continued to squirm, fight, hiss, shout, and groan, “fuck you.”  
They continued to question her as non-physically as possible by shouting her threading, but she continued to stay quiet except when cursing or spitting. The four agreed that nothing would come of her if she was alone. They exited the shed so Kloivan could securely lock the doors and windows with no escape.   
Keith and Lance changed into different outfits from their bag as Ulaz located another team member. This time, they wore colorful windbreakers and vintage slacks like they had time traveled directly from the eighties. Lance dwelled in the disguises as Keith tried to accept his uncomfortable role in the plan. He didn't mind, though, the encouraging and flattering comments from Lance as he would notice when Keith looked embarrassed.  
The pair was sent to a bookstore store this time, down on the other side of the street that they were stationed before. They saw, this time, a woman in fully covered clothing with a cat perched on her shoulders. She seemed engrossed in whatever she was reading, that Keith had to trip over a few books for her to notice they were close.   
As subtlety as she could, the woman slid her hand in her pocket to retrieve her phone to text. Shortly after she stopped typing, she continued to stare at the inactive screen and let nervous tension rise. It soon became almost hard to breath with the amount of fear in the room, so she exited with Lance and Keith shortly behind. This time, they kept distance and agility in mind.   
What they didn't expect, was for the cat to leap towards Keith’s face and try to claw him. Many people watched in awe, as the woman seemed not regretful, but proud of her feline. By standees ran to Keith’s rescue and pulled the cat from his face until it agreed to leave.  
A crowd of people surrounded Keith and Lance as the woman and her cat sauntered away down the street towards the precinct. They tried to resume their pursuit, but the crowd insisted that Keith should rest or go to the doctor’s and that his assumed boyfriend should stay with him. Keith nudged two strangers off of him to see the woman, and instead saw Kolivan and Ulaz carrying her.  
“Ow! Oh, honey, they might be right, look at this!” Keith whined as he moved his collar to reveal a large purple scar. Strangers closed in on his neck to gawk and let Lance see the woman’s cat run into Kolivan's backyard.  
“Oh! That looks bad! What do you all think?” Lance gasped with his hands around Keith’s scar to draw attention to it.  
Strangers began to diagnose him with infections and rabies, insisting that he immediately go to the hospital. People began to quiet down as one stranger said, “I think it’s just a birthmark.”  
Once again, the crowd got closer to Keith and began to break away as they realized there was no danger. Still, a few stayed to continue begging Keith to go the hospital. Lance stopped them by tenderly taking Keith by the shoulders and said, “come on, babe, let’s go inside and go, they're right.”   
They turned and walked down the street and into Kolivan’s backyard, pretending it was their own. Lance wrapped his knuckle on the shed door softly and Ulaz slipped out of the room, cautiously as to not let any noise out.  
“Well, this one is less willing to speak than the last one,” he said. “There's two more, though, so let me find out where the next one is.  
They all walked into the house where Ulaz had set up his laptop. Keith and Lance proceeded to change into, now, cosplay-ish clothing. There were too many layers and colors to really understand what they were wearing, but it was extremely different from the two other outfits that they were described wearing. From the cat woman’s phone, they saw they had been described as “two men in rainbow clothing, possibly returning from some pride event.”  
Lance stopped in his tracks as he pulled a pant leg up and heard Ulaz whisper, “oh, no.”


	4. Announcement-No Update, Easter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No post today

Soooo it's Easter and I was raised Catholic so I have had a busy week and an even busier weekend. Speaking of which, I'm still a little drunk from dinner so I hope this is coherent. Anyway, I'm trying to keep going with the fic even tho I haven't had much motivation but it's still a cool story so idc how few hits this has imma keep going. I'll update on 4/8/18, promise!  
-bridget


	5. Arizona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith hunt down the rest of the team and make a discovery that changes everything. Trigger warning: death and violence

Lance peered his head around the laptop to investigate the problem. As he grew impatient, he grew twitchy and spat, “what is it!”  
“Zethrid,” he answered. “We should have planned...she should have been first.”  
“Well, why’s she so different from the other two?” Keith asked. “I'm sure we can take her down no problem.”  
Ulaz simply spun his computer around to make her profile visible to Keith and it struck him with fear and astoundment. She was enormous, at least six feet tall and three feet wide. Images of his and Lance’s heads exploding soon as she touched them filled Keith’s mind.  
“She’ll be suspicious, two of her team members have said they're being followed by two men and have not updated since then,” Ulaz explained.  
Keith shuttered, but Lance shrugged, “that's it? Easy.” He took the two phones off the table and began texting with them. Ulaz tried to stop him, but Lance had thrown down both phones back in the table.  
“What. Have. You. Done?” Ulaz grumbled. At that moment, both phones vibrated and made different tones both sounding like different pitches of bing. Ulaz cast his giant hand rapidly across the table to grab the phones and read the messages on the screen. They had both received a text from Zethrid with a simple thumbs up image. As he held the phones, they vibrated again with a message from Acxa, “okay, stay on target and don't forget to be behind the precinct at 11:30.” Ulaz felt his aggression turn from punching Lance to firmly laying a kiss on his head, but he didn't do either.  
“While you were busy killing people, I learned how to text criminals,” Lance smirked in reply to Ulaz’s shocked expression.  
Lance was underestimating his ability, he had both thrown the opposing team off guard, and got a time and place for the exchange. They figured it would take place around the precinct, but now they could take place of the team members while undercover. Ulaz had a much greater respect for Lance as he saw how rightfully proud he was.  
“Anyhow,” Ulaz coughed, as he did not believe in feeding forest fire egos with kindling compliments, “Zethrid is located at a sporting goods store at the corner of Bakmera and Tears Lane. You already know what she looks like, we’ll be awaiting you and her.”  
“How are you going to take her down?” Keith wondered.  
“Don't worry about that, we can do it,” Ulaz, strangely, smiled.  
Lance and Keith obeyed and continued up the street. They couldn't help but notice the odd looks by passing cars. To quiet the passing laughs and judgement, they turned to each other and began to talk.  
“So, why did you pick-slash-have these clothes again?” Keith asked.  
“Well, you already know I have a very festive and extra closet, what is it about these clothes that you don't understand?” Lance asked as a car slowed down next to them to clearly see what they were wearing and then sped up.  
“This is exactly what I imagine Dungeons and Dragons tournament costumes to be like,” Keith simply explained, causing Lance to howl with laughter. “You know? It's like, actual costumes. You're other clothing is just clothes you'd find in the women’s section, this seems like clothing you have to hunt after.”  
“Fine! You caught me!” Lance surrendered. “I got these at,” and he mumbled the answer.  
“What?” Keith asked.  
“Renaissance Fairs!” Lance dramatically confessed.  
“Oh,” he laughed in reply. “Okay...?”  
“The beautiful girls and heroic guys, it’s bisexual culture,” Lance elegorated as they entered the store.  
Zethrid was impossible to ignore. Not only was she towering high over the racks of clothing, she was beautiful with large pinkish-purple hair. Keith and Lance simultaneously felt their hearts sink into their stomachs, but tried not to let the other know. They silently agreed to follow the plan pattern they had, to lurk around them, get their attention, and follow them after they panic. As they entered her radius, she shot the pair a menacing look.  
Lance watched her feet make large strides towards them, mercilessly gaining speed. Keith stood his ground, but was flung out of place by Lance, who grabbed him by the arm and began to run out the door. After they dashed out past the store, Keith tried to rip his arm away, but saw Zethrid gaining speed behind them. As Keith saw she had murder in her mind, he used the arm Lance had taken to shift the position he was held at so he could run past Lance, but still have a hold on him to assure he was close behind. Finally, the hill they were climbing peaked and began to toll them down, but now Zethrid had uncontrollable speed.  
If Keith or Lance stopped, they would at least be tumbled under her sprint, so they continued to sprint past Kolivan’s house. Keith stumbled to a stop, and also acted as an anchor for Lance so he didn't continue running, after he heard a reverberating twang sound. Cartoonishly enough, Kolivan stood over Zethrid’s unconscious body with a baking pan in his hands.  
“Dude!” Keith shouted and threw his arms into a open, frozen shrug.  
“Come on,” he whispered as he dragged the giant into his fenced backyard. Keith jogged behind as Lance walked backwards and looked around for witnesses. As he turned around after he entered the backyard, he noticed the scene had dramatically changed. The shed doors had been forced open, Zethrid’s dead like body had been abandoned in the center of the backyard, and a panicked Keith and Kolivan scurried into the open backdoors where Lance followed.  
In the house, they saw a scene similar to the one they had seen when they were there minutes ago, but now with furniture and objects flung out of place. The woman with a cat, Narti was her name according to the phones, was bound to the chair Ulaz had sat in previously and had her cat in a crate that Kolivan must have had. He led them to the couch where Ulaz laid bloody.  
It was a clear image of a death bed. He had all of his, but not much of, strength applying pressure to a bloody rag placed to the kidney. Lance fiddled his fingers to distract himself from crying, while Keith diverted all of his attention to Ulaz’s last moments. “The fucking bitch stabbed me!” he angrily grunted.  
Lance wanted to giggle, but any emotion would lead to more emotion.  
“We got her tied up in the master bathroom, cat lady tied up in the kitchen,” Ulaz reported.  
“The big one unconscious for a few hours in the backyard,” Kolivan completed.  
“Seriously? Anyway, shut up these are my last words, none of them are going to talk. Least likely to talk is going to be Acxa, the one you haven't gotten yet. But, the one in the bathroom is loyal to her. If you get Acxa, threaten her in front of Ezor, she’ll talk, for sure,” Ulaz concluded.  
“How do you know?” Lance asked.  
“She's gay for her, I'm sure of it,” he replied. “Last I checked, Acxa was at the Church on the other side of Tears Lane, but she might have moved. My laptop broke, so I can't check, you need to leave now.”  
Still braiding his fingers together, Lance opened his mouth and stepped forward, but said nothing. He clearly wanted to stay with Ulaz, but Keith nudged his arm to leave. It didn't take much convincing, though, he knew what the priorities were. They began marching down the street, with clear purpose in their strut. Idiotically, thought, they forgot to take off the renaissance fair clothing. At the same time, it made them feel that much more important.  
They entered the church and began searching the church pues that weren't busy with praying Catholics. From behind the stained glass window, Keith saw a woman running towards where they came from. He realized that she hadn't actually been in the church, but in the bell tower. From there, she spotted the men that Zethrid had described.  
“Lance!” Keith whispered, but it traveled like a yell through the hollow church. “She's on her way to Kolivan’s!”  
They headed towards the side doors and began to chase her down the steep downwards street. She gained speed, but so did they, and especially after Keith nudged Lance forwards. Luckily, his nimble legs caught his weight from tumbling and he got closer to Acxa. They were surprised when she actually turned into Kolivan’s backyard, but it made their job easier.  
She made it to the kitchen before Lance threw his body into the air and then on top of Acxa, knocking her and the bound Narti to the ground and slamming her chin into the floor. Keith followed behind Lance in the door and helped him get up while also helping him keep Acxa secure.  
She didn't resist, as she had violent pain shooting in her jaw distracting her from life around her. She moved her tongue along her teeth to check that they were there, but she couldn't even concentrate on what her tongue was feeling since she only felt her chin reverbatrating. She didn't even feel when Kolivan finally arrived on scene to tie her hands behind her back. She didn't even really know where she was until she heard Ezor’s pleading screams.  
Kolivan had her hands securely wrapped behind her back making it impossible to move without breaking bones and was screaming threats while Ezor screamed pleads. Though no one could see but each other, Keith and Lance uncomfortably cringed behind Kolivan in the corner, not knowing how to stop or slow down what was happening.  
“You've killed my last fucking friend, I'll kill her, the cat lady, the cat, the big one, and then you, don't think that this isn't the beginning of that! Tell me what you are doing here! And where is Lotor? Why isn't he with you!” he screamed as he tightened his grip on Acxa.  
Ezor scream, “PLEASE, DON’T! I’LL TELL YOU EVERYTHING!”  
“Don't,” was all Acxa could say before Ezor began, “we were picking up confiscated weapons and we were going to resell them! This had nothing to do with Lotor or Zarkon, it was just a coincidence that it was in New Orleans!”  
None of this made sense.  
“Then where is Lotor if he's not with you?” Kolivan demanded.  
“He's not our leader anymore, he broke off--rebelled, now he's going to Arizona on some old mission to cover his tracks! I heard, earlier today, he just left from Vegas!”  
Keith felt his heart sink, he knew that he was the old mission. It was in Arizona that he first encountered Lotor and it was in Arizona he lived now with his adopted family. He released all of his worries with the simple word, “fu--u-u-u-u-u-uck,” and left the bathroom with Lance following him.  
Knowing that Lance was right behind him, Keith spun around a spat out, “we got to go to Arizona.”  
“I know,” Lance answered. “But we have to find out where he is first,” he wondered.  
Keith grunted and released the frustrated breath, “you don't understand. I know where he is, he's covering his tracks and finding me. He was supposed to come here but ended up where me and my family live while I'm here? He's there, he's taking care of them.”  
Lance was confused, he thought Keith didn't have family, and he still wondered why Lotor would have been in New Orleans besides leading his team, which he apparently left. Though confused, Lance began to conclude their time at Kolivan’s so they could begin the next step to find Lotor: go to a Arizona…apparently. He whispered in Kolivan’s ear that they had to immediately leave and if he could handle the team on his own.  
“Go, I've got them,” he assured Lance.  
“Without murder?” Lance questioned.  
Kolivan leaned in closer and lowered his voice even quieter, “I've honestly never killed anyone, but don't tell them that.”  
As Lance left the bathroom, he overheard Acxa quietly cursing out Ezor with her weak and exhausted voice that sounded both unforgiving and unimaginably grateful.  
They effortlessly figured which bus route would take them home quickest with Lance’s knowledge of the New Orlean’s busses. On the bus to his apartment, neither of them talked. They both tried to mentally figure out a plan without having the other’s ideas distract them. Also, jumping on a plane to Arizona to hunt an enemy didn't seem like appropriate conversation to have in the bus.  
They sped into the apartment and began by plugging in their smartphones to have them assist the two. Lance packed a backpack of clothes of his own while Keith was on a laptop looking for the next tickets.  
“Next flight is in two and a half hours,” Keith called to Lance, who was in his room while Keith sat in the couch.  
“That's good,” Lance answered stepping out of his room.  
“What's going on?” they heard a sheepish voice ask.  
The turned to see the counter where Hunk and Pidge sat, both looking concerned. They had moved, possibly even left, since Keith and Lance first left, but they were witnessing them nonetheless.  
“Arizona,” Keith answered, simply.  
“Okay, why?” Hunk asked.  
“It's where this Lotor guy is,” Lance answered Hunk, but turned back to Keith. “My credit card number should be saved on the computer, buy them, send the passes to both of us, and let’s go.”  
“Wait!” Keith turned to face him. “We should just go now so I can pay for the tickets when we're there. It's only fair.”  
“No,” Lance insisted, “it’s fine, you're losing too much money on transport, just pay for the Uber there.”  
Keith smiled in revelation of how much Lance cared, but Hunk continued to pout in revelation in how little Lance cared.  
“Lance,” all Hunk said, but it was enough to show what was in his mind.  
Lance simply went up to his friend and patted him on the shoulder. After Hunk showed an understanding smile, Lance melted his body into a hug. As they hugged, Lance made sure to appreciate the last time feeling at ease for, probably, a few days.  
Keith's phone buzzed, telling him their Uber was there, but he couldn't leave without getting a full-bodied hug from both Pidge and Hunk.  
“Don't die, murderer,” Pidge joked as they closed the door.  
The ride there was filled with tension. Lance continued to charge and check his phone that everything was in order, while Keith hung his head on the glass of the window. He didn't really know what he was looking at, he was just lost in thought hoping everyone was okay. When he began to smell something that smelled like burnt peanut butter, he turned to Lance, who was eating.  
“Sorry,” he said with a mouth full of brownie, “it's an edible, want the other half?”  
“Why do you have an edible with you?” Keith asked.  
“Because we're going to the airport, who flies sober?” Lance asked.  
Keith shrugged and accepted the other half and turned his head back on the window. Lance sensed his nervous energy and asked, “so, I thought you didn't have family?”  
He started with a sigh and turned to Lance, “I was adopted when I was sixteen. It's highly unusual, but I started staying with this family and I was their first foster kid. They had gotten in the program after the father died. I wish I knew him, he sounds great. But, they really helped me, it felt like rehabilitation!” his tone shifted from reminiscent to regretful, “but, I didn't tell them what I was doing. I told them I was visiting a friend for a month, hoping I could finish this up in one place and go back home. I guess not, and now I got them in danger.”  
They arrived at the airport and began to sign in. Thankfully, I didn't take long with no luggage that needed to be checked.  
“Tell me about them,” Lance insisted as they were in line security checks.  
“Well, it’s my sister and dad, their names are Allura and Coran. They’re refugees. Allura’s mom died there and when they made it to America, Alfor, Allura’s dad, married Coran, who had run away with them. A few years later, Alfor died and Coran enrolled in the foster program to fill the void in the family. It's hard to believe that I actually fill it, but they adopted me even though they knew they'd only have legal control over me for two years, but they insisted I join the family,” he finished as he slipped his shoes back on his feet.  
“Wow,” Lance gasped, inspired but also out of breath as he tried to walk at Keith’s pace, but more jogged. “That's really beautiful, I had no choice in my family, ha!”  
Normally, Keith wouldn't continue talking. He was tired, worried, and could distinguish small talk from an actual conversation, but Lance seemed to be trying hard to make him feel better. “Really? Tell me about them,” Keith said as he sat down.  
Lance threw himself on the seat next to Keith and tried to capture the extent of his enormous and colorful family. Their vacations, inside jokes, shared quirks and genetics, traditions, and pranks. The whole entire spiel was a foreigner language to Keith, but he understood that Lance loved them a lot. He also understood that Lance was tortured by his career choice and what they would think of it. He wanted to be a responsible and inspiring leader to his cousins, nieces, nephews, and younger siblings, and felt he didn't meet the traditional standards.  
The two unknowingly had an agreement to distract the other with personal stories so that they didn't dwell on and overthink their problems. As Keith noticed Lance’s distraught tone when explaining how he thought he lived up to his family’s expectations, so he began telling Lance about his secret love of flying.  
It was hardly even a love, but a jealousy that even though these machines weighed tons, they could effortlessly glide through the air. No matter who he lived with at the time, Keith felt at home as long as he could see the planes. He continued to start talking about his first time on a plane and what a magical experience it was.  
When they strapped the belts around their waist in the plane, Keith showed Lance each part of the take off that enthralled him. How when the plane lifts off, you can feel the pressure of the atmosphere pushing on your head.  
“And!” Keith said as they were in the air, “you can feel the pressure shift from above you to below you as you're hovering bone the rest of the world! And you can feel it alternate from above and below!”  
“That might just be the brownie,” Lance whispered, but couldn't help snickering a little.  
“Whatever, I just can't get over how we're floating between Earth and space,” he answered, as he realized Lance was right and that the weed in the brownie had begun to take over.  
He felt take over his head and push it to the window, as he fell asleep.  
He wouldn't have known anytime had passed if Lance didn't suddenly have his unconscious head leaning on his shoulder. Keith felt his heart sink as he realized Lance was using him as a pillow, and regretted waking up with a jolt. Lance turned his sleepy head to look up at Keith with panic in his face.  
“What's going on?” Lance asked, not realizing he was talking, or even awake.  
“I think we're landing,” Keith answered in an equally tired voice.  
The mixture of excitement, fear, sleep deprivation, and fluctuating pressure from the airplane resonated poorly in the two as they couldn't stay awake. They continued to fall asleep, wake from the plane’s landing, and pass out again. It took a stewardess to tap Lance on the shoulder for him to pull Keith out of his chair and try to leave the plane.  
“Oh, my God, we’re here,” Keith tried to exclaim, but only groaned with a groggy voice. “Come on.”  
Keith took out his phone and tried to order an Uber with the little amount of wifi as they walked to baggage claim. They knew they didn't actually have baggage to claim, but the flow of the walking traffic brought them there to finally sit back down. Keith simply nudged Lance with his phone to show what was on the screen. An Uber cost 130 dollars to get to Keith’s house, which was two hours away.  
“Fuck,” Lance snorted. “Okay. Okay, we’ll stay at a motel for the night and go early tomorrow.”  
“Lance, no,” Keith answered. “Lotor is here, he's there, we have to go.”  
“We don't know that. We have very little information, and it's hard not to jump to conclusions in that case, but we can't go tonight. It's nine now, we’ll find a motel halfway, take the shuttle there, sleep, and Uber there the second that we wake up. You don't know shit about this guy, he probably doesn't know shit about you either. It could take him a whole week to find out just just what town you lived in, but you're not going to help Allura and Coran if we show up acting like zombies.”  
Keith nodded to show he agreed. Instead, they began to research motels that would be easy to get to, and easy to leave from. It didn't take long for Lance to find a Days Inn motel in Black Canyon City.  
They found the shuttle and boarded after paying five dollars each and telling the driver their location. For a fleeting moment, Lance feared that an hour away would be too far, but the driver didn’t even seem phased after they named the city. It made Lance think about being a bus driver, which lead him into a long internal debate about his own career.  
Before Keith had arrived in Hunk’s bakery, Lance had considered moving, or even quitting crime. But now he had a responsibility to complete, he couldn't help but wonder if it was the beginning to doing important work or just his peak. Maybe, all other work will pale in comparison to helping Keith. As Keith’s sleeping head fell on his arm, Lance felt the literal wight upon his shoulders to help Keith find peace.  
Lance had, of course, been impatient with how withholding and vague Keith can be about what it is he’s actually chasing, but he could imagine how complicated it must all be to explain. Similar to how Ulaz had difficulty explaining the Blade, Keith couldn’t be expected to explain his life and the entanglement of lies that lays within the story. Lance had silently agreed right then that this job with Keith would at least be a transformative one. This would be the job to force him to decide where to take his career. The only thing he can do in between now and the time he’d have to make the decision is help Keith to the full extent that he could.  
Keith awoke to the combination of feeling Lance’s shoulder shift and the bus sliding forward as it screeched to a stop. They thanked the driver and walked the half mile in the dark night to the motel with the lobby lights beaming through the windows.  
“Hi, I called earlier about making a reservation under the name Knowles?” Lance asked the woman behind the desk, but not without a sneeze like laugh from Keith.  
“Yes, I just need you to--” the woman handed Lance paperwork that would complete her sentence for her.  
Keith tried to take it from him, but Lance insisted. Keith looked to him with clear confusion and Lance replied by giving him a look that said, “I’ll explain later.” So, Keith teetered on his toes to heels while Lance signed names and initials on the papers and handed over the required cards.  
“Here’s your--um--why is the reservation under the name Knowles but your cards say your name is McClain?” the woman asked while lowering her hand with the key in it, causing Keith to turn away from her so he could have a silent laughing fit and Lance felt his heart rise to his throat and suffocate him.  
“Uhhh-” Lance stumbbled, “I knew my boyfriend would get a kick out of it, see?” he said and pointed to a now embarrassed Keith.  
“Oh--well,” the woman went back to her computer and handed them a new key from the one before, “here’s your room key. You find it across the parking lot and upstairs.”  
They both had a sneaking suspicion that they had known what she did, but didn’t believe it until they actually arrived at the room. They were right. She had changed their room from two beds to one, most likely as a personal symbol of acceptance that neither of them asked for.  
“So, you want to sleep on the floor?” Keith asked.  
“You’re kidding? I thought you’d be savvy with deleting toxic masculinity,” Lance sarcastically rolled his eyes. “We’re sharing.”  
“Well, yeah, but I’m just saying that it’s your fault that we don’t have individual beds now,” Keith clarified in a joking but sincere manner.  
As they agreed to at the airport, they immediately began to get ready for bed so they could leave early in the morning. Keith laid in bed setting alarms and maps up on his phone in preparation for the next day while Lance showered. When Lance came out with a towel on his head and another around his waist, they quickly alternated spots.  
Keith left the bathroom fully dressed in pajamas and opened the door to the familiar scent of burnt peanut butter. Lance was, presumably, already smoking weed through a vaporizer. “How did you get that?” Keith gasped.  
“I brought it,” Lance said, not breaking eye contact with his phone.  
“We went on a plane!” Keith exclaimed.  
Lance dramatically threw his head back in laughter and heaved, “dear, Keith, it is my job to know people who will let me do kind of illegal things. Illegal activity including, and mostly, sneaking weed through airport security.” He handed Keith the silver rectangle with soft corners, and he began to inspect its edges to learn how to work it. “Just put it to your lip,” Lance instructed.  
As a second attempt, Keith turned it directly across his closed lips, making Lance laugh again. “Like this,” Lance instructed by pretending to hold it downwards and under his relaxed top lip and supposably touching the tensed bottom lip. Keith laughed at his funny but cute face and immitaded it. This time, he felt electric smoke enter his mouth.  
As he pushed the smoke out of his mouth, Lance leaped from where he was sitting and stuffed Keith’s mouth into the towel he had been holding next to him. “I signed something saying we wouldn’t smoke in here, but there’s nowhere to smoke outside.”  
Keith moved the towel from his mouth and saw a yellowish stain from forcing smoke into the fabric. “They’re going to think we’re so gross,” Keith noted.  
They returned to the single bed that they had to share and continued to voluntarily share the smoke and the towel they blew into. After the machine beeped notifying there was nothing left to smoke, they turned off the lamp and laid to go to bed.  
Keith laid with wide open eyes staring at the wall. How could he sleep? He wondered if he should ask Lance for more to smoke, because he could feel the impact, but it wasn’t enough. There might not be anything strong enough to break through the thick layer of stress that Lotor had painted into Keith’s past.  
Lotor was the only name he had ever heard about that had been involved in the night his family was separated. He remembered being locked in a room with his brother and two guards. The guards were not too concerned about two children escaping, so they continued to have casual conversation. They debated what to do if Lotor took his place as a new leader of Galra. At time time, Keith had no idea what they were talking about, but he suddenly remembered their conversation better after meeting Ulaz. The only word that really resonated with him was “Lotor” and all he was promised and expected to be.  
It was stupid to lean into crime at such a young age, but Keith was desperate to be involved in crime if it meant crossing paths with Lotor or anyone who knew Lotor. Unfortunately, he didn’t know Lance until recently and could only get as far as petty crime. He had no access or social skill to get involved in organized crime. It was an odd compliment, but a meaningful one. If only Lance knew, but Keith would never say.  
“Do you need more?” Lance asked.  
“Oh, my God, yes,” Keith jumped.  
Lance turned on the small lamp next to him and continued to throw away the old ash and fill the small heat chamber with new green herb. He sealed the container, pressed hidden buttons a certain amount of times until the small “x” symbol on it changed colors. As it became a steady and consistent green, Lance put it to his lip, inhaled, handed it to Keith, and exhaled in the towel. Keith imitated Lance, and they continued until the symbol turned from green to red.  
“Are you nervous?” Lance asked.  
Keith snorted, “yeah. I’m terrified. I have no idea what to expect and you expect me to sleep.”  
Lance felt a pang of anger that Keith was blaming him, but Lance also knew that he was right. Instead of fighting him, Lance turned out the light and rolled his entire body on top of Keith.  
“What are you doing?” Keith, out of character, spealed.  
“Come on,” Lance said in a groggy and tired voice that sounded more like waking up than falling asleep. “We’re going to bed, it’s 11:30, if we go to sleep now, we can wake up at, like, six.”  
Keith was frustrated as he knew that his house was only an hour and a half away. He could go now, find Allura and Coran safe, and sleep there. If that wasn’t the case, then he would have to fight Lotor, no matter how tired he is. But, he also knew how stress took such a toll on his body. His body feels stress as a physical weight that he carries with him all day, and it exhaughts him. It was almost like Lance knew that Keith was useless without sleep, his most tragic flaw and biggest insecurity, and forced him to accept sleep.  
With the metaphorical weight of stress, the leginiment weight of Lance’s body, and his airsick body, he quickly fell asleep.  
Lance woke up first, with his body feeling especially heavy. Upon the combination of waking up more thoroughly and investigating, he discovered that Keith’s limbs were now entangled with his own. He did his best to slip out without waking Keith, but failed. Before Lance could even move from Keith, Keith had leaped out of bed and begun to get dressed. Lance wanted to make an inappropriate joke about Keith’s hasty attitude, but feared that he might sense the sincerity in the joke.  
They were shortly packed and in the Uber’s back seat. Lance glanced over at Keith who was bouncing his leg, biting his nails, and checking his phone. He leaned over to quietly, as not to startle Keith in such a distant state, ask, “Have you texted either of them?”  
“Um--no,” Keith answered. “I don’t really know what to say.”  
The ride seemed both faster than they expected but too long. Lance tried to absorb the scene, but found Keith already speed walking into the front door of a small burgundy brick house. They walked in and Lance saw a man with flaming red hair and mustache, a girl with dark skin and white hair, and another man with dark black skin and white hair, but his was sleek while her’s was poofy.  
As he saw the calm scene in front of him, Lance turned to Keith to give him a comforting and reassured smile. But, Keith wasn’t calm or reassured, he was panicked. The man with white hair turned as he heard them come in.  
“Keith,” he said walking towards them with a hand eager to shake, “I’m sorry this is so strange, I’m Lotor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I hope you liked it because it was my fave chapter so far! I’m updating next Sunday 4/1/18 with allura and coran so yay! Also, I’m having a shitty week and if you wanna make me feel better with a comment or kudos I’d really appreciate it <3


	6. Keith's House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out about Lotor

Tension was almost visible. The moment Lotor’s hand grasped Keith’s everyone felt and an uncomfortable frog in their throats. All Keith could do was look around and see, an enemy, an ally, and his family, that were never all supposed to meet were now gathered in his home. Allura and Coran didn’t even know what was going on in the slightest, they found a man looking for Keith but kept him for coffee after explaining that he wasn’t there? What the fuck is happening.  
“What the fuck is happening?” Keith accidentally whimpered out loud.  
“Keith!” Allura scolded in typical big sister fashion, “you have two guests, be respectful. What are you even doing home and who is he?” As the last few words came out of her mouth, Allura clasped her hands and gasped.  
“NO! No, okay, wait,” he said as he pulled Lotor and Lance outside. He didn’t know why he brought Lotor with them, but he certainly wasn’t about to leave the man who separated his biological family alone with his adopted family. Again. “Okay, what the fuck?” Keith asked in a threatening tone. Even his stance changed and became for defensive and prepared.  
“So you’ve heard of me?” Lotor asked, sincerely, though it didn’t sound like that.  
“Heard of you?” Keith repeated in a confused tone. “Dude, I just went looking for you to seek revenge--is that why you’re at my house?”  
Lotor sighed as he realized the situation. “So you have heard of me, sorry you’ve gotten the wrong impression.”  
Keith had been waiting for this so long and it was going so wrong, he was determined to accuse Lotor, “no, you seem as slimy as I imagined.”  
The corner of Lotor’s mouth began to twitch as he became visibly frustrated. “It’s called moisturizer, I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but I thought you might be able to understand what help looks like.”  
Right then Allura opened the door with a giant smile. “Well, stop being so secretive, come on inside,” she pulled her brother by his arm not knowing what she was interrupting. Keith gave both Lance and Lotor a look to behave, they’d continue their fight later.  
Allura collected more mugs for coffee and talked as if she memorized a script. She tried to learn as much about Lotor and Lance, which was hard as they were both supposed to not tell Allura about their involvement with Keith, and tried to bond everyone at the table. “Lance you like tennis? You’ve ought to play Coran if you want a challenge!” Her radiance was hard to deny, even in such an uncomfortable situation.   
“Wait, so, you two just met today?” Lance asked Lotor and Allura.  
They looked at each other, and back at Lance, and simultaneously nodded in response.   
“Then--how are you both--” and he made gestures with his fingers at his own head, causing them to both laugh.  
“It’s funny we’re actually both-” Allura began.  
“Altean!” Lotor completed. Allura smiled to see how excited she could make her guests. “It’s a small ancient African tribe in Somalia, it’s basically extinct now. An ancient tribe believed that people who had birthmarks on their heads, changing the color of their hair, were marked by the gods to cast away. Those castaways became the Alteans and passed down their marks. Science still hasn’t discovered why there were so many births with hair changing birthmarks, but it created an entire civilization. It’s funny, how rare it is yo have the whole head white anymore, this is some hell of a coincidence.”  
“Coincidence,” Allura softly repeated. “Alright, if that’s what you want to believe, but it is quite odd. How we are-what--last living ancestors, and you come knocking on my door asking for my brother. Why were you looking for Keith, anyhow? And Keith, how did you know to come home?”   
Lotor and Keith tried not to look at each other to telepathically make a plan, but continued to look at Allura with admiration upon their faces. “Um-” Keith began, “Lotor is here to--” oh, God, why was he here? “Meet--you. I found him--because I noticed you were missing Alfor, and I thought I’d find some more Alteans. I figured you three couldn’t have been the only ones to survive.”  
Regret filled Keith’s chest as Allura ran to hug him in his seat with tears streaming down her face. The worst part was that Keith knew that Allura would be cool with it, but Keith needed to find out what “it” was before he could involve her. What had he done, he had to seperate Lotor and Allura. Shit, that might be impossible now. Anyhow, he’s got to talk to Lotor alone.  
Allura wiped her eyes and excused herself to go to the bathroom to collect herself. Keith looked over to Coran after he put his hand on his shoulder, and saw that Coran had tears stuck in the bags of his eyes and his mustache. Oh, God, he made Coran cry, too, Keith’s heart sank to his toes.  
“We’ll give you and ‘Lura a second, okay, Dad?” Keith spat out the first excuse he came up with and a side of “Dad” to soften Coran up to making him cry even more and needing at least ten minutes to calm down. As Coran’s vision blurred behind golf ball sized tears, the three disappeared upstairs. Keith lead them into his own room.  
“Okay,” Keith said as patiently as possible, “what are you doing here?”  
“Are you going to be rude?” Lotor snarkily inquired.  
“I don’t have time, and neither do you. Allura’s going to be here in two minutes braiding your hair and asking you about your favorite Altean story,” Keith replied, monotone but clearly angry.  
“I assume you know me from when I worked with my father. He introduced me as a part of the abduction squad, but I quickly moved my way up the latter and shortly earned a team of my own, with almost no help from my powerful father,” Lotor began.  
“He asked what you’re doing here, not you life story,” Lance said. Keith looked to him, he was leaning against the door, bouncing his leg, and biting his nails. It seemed that Lance had directly adopted Keith’s nervous habits when he wasn’t using them himself. It quickly occurred to him that Lance is probably nervous as he has no idea what’s going on.  
“Well, you’ve ought to know who I am if you are going to know what I am doing here!” Lotor exclaimed. “Anyhow, recently I’ve discovered my father had a plot of sorts. A plot that involved the cost of my teams life, my life, and possibly more, Galra, civilian, and everything in between. My father plans on starting a civil war on America between the lower and upper classes. He is planning a major step, nationally shaking, 'its going to be in the news for the next few months' plan, that I need help preventing. There are hundreds of lives at stake.”  
Lance wanted to vomit. Or faint. Right now would be the perfect time for a dramatic passing out. He resisted, to stay professional, but he still made jokes to distract himself from the national importance of helping Keith. Seriously, what had happened in the past few days?  
Much to Lance’s surprise, it was Keith, who was leaning on his wardrobe, who fainted. He did not faint in the precious and graceful way Lance had planned to, but in a way that would have been more natural if someone had called “timber!” before he fell backwards. Thankfully, Lance was directly behind him and able to slip his fingertips in Keith’s armpits before he hit the ground. As he head continued to fall, determined to get injured on the wooden floor, Lance slipped his soft sneaker in between the mullet and the hardwood floor and sighed. He wriggled him in an upright position, just to let him fall forwards into his bed.  
Lance looked to Lotor and tilted his head to the door as a sign that it was time to distract Allura and Coran again. As they slowly turned the knob into place as to make no sounds, they heard Allura and Coran approaching and rushed to meet them in the hall instead of directly outside Keith’s room.  
“Found you two!” Allura smiled. “Now, where’s Keith run off to?”  
“Did you know ‘allora’ means ‘now’ or ‘well’, like used in the beginning of a sentence, such as ‘now, where’s Keith run off to’ or ‘well, I haven’t seen you in a while’ in Italian? Do you think that’s where your name came from. Or perhaps, the word ‘alluring’ which means compelling in English,” Lotor began. He took Allura by the arm and lead her to the sitting room he saw when he first walked into the house that morning.   
Allora, it was Lance and Coran alone in the hallway. It was only briefly awkward, then they could barley let the other speak they got so excited about what to talk about. They somehow saw the other as a great listener and knew they’d understand each other’s theatricity.   
Keith awoke to his limbs heavier than he remembered. He began to awake more thoroughly and begin to clearly see Lance entangled in his arms--somehow. He didn’t remember going to sleep with Lance, he didn’t even remember going to sleep, why was he in his bed--oh fuck--he shook Lance violently until he woke up.  
“What the fuck,” Keith asked.   
“What the fuck is up, Kyle,” Lance quoted in a groggy voice.  
“How long have I been out?” Keith asked.  
“Calm down, only, like, five hours?” Lance said, uncertainty, laying his head back down on Keith’s chest.  
“No!” Keith got up and tried to leave the room, but couldn’t. “What happened?”  
Lance sighed. “Lotor said that we’re--like--kind of involved in a huge national conspiracy. Allora, he is--but he wants your help, and indirectly, mine. After the pressure of the situation rose, you dropped. Lotor and Allura might still be talking about Altean culture, Coran and I hung out, I explained our past day and why you passed out--as in fell asleep, and they asked me if I wanted a nap, too. I did. Also, they think I’m your boyfriend and won’t let me convince them otherwise, they didn’t even give me a seperate bed. Does that happen a lot out here?”  
Keith let out a long exasperated sigh, releasing all the emotions he had kept inside. He continued to make groans and rub his eyes as he gathered his courage to speak his plan. “No...I know I have to tell Allura. We have all the details we need now, we can’t cut her and Coran out forever.”  
“We have all the details?” Lance asked. “That doesn’t seem completely accurate. We still know nothing about Lotor, including if he’s even telling the truth, how he found you, what exactly everyone means by ‘rebelling from the galra,’ do you think he did something bad?”  
The questions began to haunt Keith, and a few of his own. As he opened his mouth to talk through what to do, Allura was creaking open door, and he hadn’t even thought of a plan yet. “Knock, knock,” she said audibly while also physically knocking on the door that creaked open. “Is it alright that I come in?”  
Lance looked to Keith hoping that he would have a plan that he could transfer from his own mind to Lance. Unfortunately, Lance wouldn’t know the plan as he wasn’t apart of it. He excused himself after Keith made a look that pleaded privacy.  
“He’s so cute,” Allura smiled, wiggling her shoulders suggestively.  
“Okay, first, stop that, you are making him so uncomfortable,” Keith laughed. At the sight of his smile, his sister launched herself into his arms.  
Keith held her tight to prepare himself to tell her everything, all the secrets he’s kept from her for all these years. He wrapped his arms around her even tighter as he gathered his courage.   
“Okay, buddy, want to loosen your grip a little?” Allura laughed with concerned eyes. “Is there something wrong?”  
“I--um--” Keith tried to begin. He rubbed his throat as to ease out the words. “See, Lotor being Altean was a lucky coincidence. This is my first time meeting him, too, I knew his name--from the night my family was separated.” Allura entangled her hands into Keith’s to put him at ease. “That shit was...so weird. There was no trace, no through investigation, no suspects, evidence, there was...nothing. All I ever had was the name Lotor. I looked for him all I could when I was in foster care, and even more since you and Coran adopted me, and I finally found Lance, who could help me find Lotor.  
“Today, we found Lotor in the kitchen with you and Coran. We talked some, and it sounds like we’re actually on the same side. I starting to understand how important this all is and how I have to finish what I started. I know it sounds unbelievably cheesy, but whatever, it’s my life right now. But, I want you to be on my side. Lance seems great, but I still barely know him, and I really am skeptical about Lotor, but I need you on this team so I can trust someone.”  
Keith used his shoulder to wipe the few tears off his cheeks, but Allura didn’t touch her giant tears that formed a consistent waterfall down her face. Keith warped his mouth to hide his smile, but his sister’s ability to create pools of water with her tears has become entertaining. Knowing he was stifling a laugh, she tried to laugh herself as she swung her leg around to kick him a little while her hands her busy holding his. “Shut up,” she laughed, but tears began to fall harder.  
“I’m just sorry you had to do it alone,” she sniffled.  
“I needed to. If I couldn’t handle it, you would have been the first person I turned to for help. You taught me how to be strong, and I need you again,” Keith said.  
Allura pulled him into a hug as she whispered, “of course.”   
They wiped their tears and tried to pretend that they were cool after crying like a couple of babies. “But--what’s the deal with him?” Allura asked.  
“I still don’t know,” Keith sighed. He felt so frustrated that he had almost no information on Lotor, and why he was mentioned so many times all those years ago but now he’s an enemy.   
“Oh, not Lotor, Lance,” Allura clarified. “You’re into him, right? ‘Cause, I’m pretty positive he’s into you.”  
Keith leaned in as if he was whispering with Lance in the room and hardly spoke, “I’m keeping him wrapped around my finger until this things is over, but trust me, it’s on.”  
Allura immediately burst in loud laughter, which made Keith begin to snicker, but it progressed to an equally exaggerated laugh. Lance peered in the doorway during their fit of laughter to ask them why they were laughing so hard. In response, they only laughed louder as they were in his presence.  
“Okay,” Lance replied, flatly. He sat down on the chair in the room and took out his phone to play on as he waited for them to calm down. When they did, Allura spoke.  
“We need Coran,” she said.  
“Are you sure?” Keith asked. “I mean, I obviously considered it, but he’s getting a little older now, do you think he’ll be okay?”  
“I recently had to hold him back from drop kicking a kid with a ‘Make America Great Again’ hat on at Chick-fil-a. If anything, age has toughened him,” Allura explained as Lance quietly proclaimed his approval and appreciation for that man. “I’ll go tell him what’s up, then call you guys down stair, okay?”   
Allura left the room while Keith and Lance stayed and were shortly joined by Lotor. “Allura told me to wait in here while she talks to Coran,” he explained. As Keith and Lance both understandingly nodded, Lotor asked, “did you tell her...about--well, the truth.”  
“Yeah,” Keith confessed. “I hope you’re okay with that, but we need her on our team.”  
“I, begrudgingly, agree,” Lotor replied. “We talked for several hours, she is extremely intellectual and skilled.”   
Keith stood on his feet and threateningly too close to Lotor. “You better not get any fucking ideas,” he whispered and threw his body where he sat before next to Lance, who looked just as defensive of the girl he just met.  
Just moments after their stare off, they heard Coran yelp in horror and Allura try to calm him. The three stayed in the room, as Allura ordered, and hoped that Coran kept an open mind. Again, they heard more yelps of shock and howling “oh, no!” a few times. Shortly after they heard his last dramatic gasp, Allura summoned the others downstairs.  
They all sat at the kitchen table as before, but a Coran, with tear stains on his cheeks, got up to embrace Keith closely. “I’m so sorry, my boy.”  
“It’s okay, Coran, really,” Keith tried to laugh as he patted his back.  
They all sat stiffly, waiting for someone to start. Allura tried to speak, but Lotor unknowingly beat her to it. “I have to apologize,” he spoke. “You all have just met me and you must think that I’ve brought this terrible burden on your family, and you are not wrong to think this. I’m also so sorry that I cannot explain more thoroughly who I am and what I need from you all, but you must understand that my father is a very corrupt man who made my past very complicated and ruined my childhood.”  
“So?” Keith asked. “You ruined my childhood.”  
“You’re ruining my childhood right now,” Lance tried to support Keith.  
“You’re 25,” Keith whispered to Lance.  
“Oh shit, it just dawned on me that my childhood is officially over,” Lance gasped. “Sorry, existential crises aren’t professional, I’ll worry about it later.”  
Lotor looked at the two, clearly annoyed, and continued, “anyway...I will do my best to explain.” He took a breath. “My father raised me in the belief that what the Galra did was return power to the people, but I see now that I misinterpreted his message. The Galra intend to take power from those who hold it now and multiply their own. I am so ashamed that it took so long to see his intentions, but the amount of lives he has taken and wants to take cannot be justified in any way. Right now, he plans to send as many New Orleans police officers that he can convince into a bomb-threatened building. What the officers don’t know is that it is my father himself that controls when the bomb will go off-”  
“New Orleans?” Lance angrily asked. He hadn’t talked much since arriving, so his sudden aggressive tone shook everyone at the table.  
“Yes?” Lotor said, scared of the response.  
“WE JUST CAME FROM THERE!” Lance pounded on the table. “I LIVE THERE! I EVEN KNOW POLICE OFFICERS THERE, AND WE’RE HERE?”  
“Please, uh-Lance, let me continue,” Lotor requested. “He plans to do this within the week, not today. In fact, I have every detail. Though he’s always been hasty towards me, this job is bigger than anything he’s done, and he knows that he needs all the help he can get. I sent my team there while I found you all.  
“I heard of a foster child asking my name for years, tracked him, watched him, made sure he never got too close. Unfortunately, I let my guard down as I was busy with my father’s largest scheme. I knew that the foster child had collected enough information and hatred against the Galra to help me. Even if it meant teaming up with the only name he ever knew to hate, he knows the gravity of this situation.”  
Keith was silent and terrified. He had no idea that Lotor had known who he was, but now he knew that Lotor actually knew more about Keith than Keith could have ever known about Lotor. Even as he talked sincerely, it was hard to believe what he said. Keith’s confidence faded as Lotor stared him down as he monologues so passive aggressively. He tried comprehending the thought again: Lotor had been watching Keith for longer than he knows. The thought ran through his head on repeat but it never seemed to stick. Lance shifted his squeaky seat to position himself more in between Lotor and Keith.  
It was hard to comment on what he said, but Allura spoke up. “First off, when this is over, I’ll beat you for that. Second, how old are you?”  
Lotor softly laughed, “With my sadistic father, I started in the family business very young. I had earned my own elite team when I was only fifteen. As for my current age, it’s hard to say, honestly. I only have fake forms of identification and I’ve never celebrated a birthday.”  
Once again, his British accent silenced the room as a stale atmosphere fell. Lance uncomfortably began typing on his phone, then Keith received a text. From Lance, even though he was inches away. “He reminds me of a Spongebob character. I have paper skin and glass bones dude,” it read. Keith wanted to laugh, but stifled it as an awkward cough instead, which made Lance awkwardly cough as he hid laughter.  
Lotor judgmentally gave them side eye as Allura aimed to kick Keith’s foot under the table, but punted Lance instead. He let out an audible, but reduced groan of pain. Her hand ran to his arm to assure he was okay, but he raised his hand and silently insisted all was forgiven. She looked to Keith as she heard him rapidly breathing through his nostrils, and saw his smug smile. Her nostrils flared and hands flinched to fists and Keith quickly halted. The three of them then looked at the other end of the table, where Coran sat cringing and Lotor judged with his arms crossed.  
“If you all won’t take this seriously, I’ll just take Coran and go,” Lotor snorted.  
“Hey, he’s not yours to take!” Allura defended.  
“Please all, you don’t have to fight over me!” Coran pleaded. “We can just all go. Like, now. This sounds like quite a dire situation. We just needed to get a little fun out before we head into battle, right?”  
Everyone nodded in agreeance with Coran’s convincing, but also--not really that believable, excuse. Lotor impatiently rested his forehead on his fingers while he thought.  
“Alright,” he agreed.  
Though they all agreed that the matter was urgent and they needed to leave immediately, they spent half an hour at the table figuring out transportation. As four fought over who would pay for the tickets, Lotor silently called a private jet to the nearest airport of any size. He announced this as Coran almost hit “confirm” and sighed in relief. They diverged in seperate directions to gather their things and follow Lotor to the Uber he ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what up, you know the cycle, ill post again on 4/15/18. ill be honest, I just spent a long time proof reading and editting this chapter and my computer crashed and deleted my changes. Sorry lmao that really fucking sucks, I hope this is a legible


	7. Back in New Orleans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two plans are birthed

To go from last-minute coach seats to a private jet in less than twenty four hours was a violent transition. That’s why Keith and Lance shamelessly and joyfully took advantage of the size and privacy of the plane by sitting far away from each other, shouting and waving, frequently moving seats, and just entertaining themselves with freedom. The others watched with judgement, but they didn’t understand the uncomfortable flight they endured earlier. When they would sit next to each other, they would joke about how Lotor had probably never ridden coach. Only first class or private jets!

“He probably doesn’t even know what the inside of a minivan looks like,” Keith joked.

“I bet he doesn’t even know what the outside of a minivan looks like!” Lance laughed.

Lotor scoffed and rolled his eyes as quietly as possible, but just loud enough that everyone heard. Including the pilot.

After his clear annoyance, Lance and Keith let everyone fly in peace. Though it was a tempting option to annoy him until he broke, they decided that Lotor was putting a lot at risk by doing everything he was. He must have been understandably stressed about betraying his own father to try and help something he may have no chance stopping. Still, they had both napped and were too energetic to sleep again. Instead, they decided to make a rough plan.

“Do we need Lotor?” Lance asked. “I mean, we have no idea what’s going on.”

“I think we have enough information to make a sloppy-copy plan,” Keith said.

“Sloppy-copy?” Lance laughed.

Keith hadn’t realized that was a strange saying and began to blush as he defended it, “it’s more fun to say ‘sloppy-copy’ versus ‘rough draft,’ let me live!”

They giggled, “why are we acting like hyper kids before we go in to--like, battle?”

“Well,” Lance pondered, “if we get out of this alive, we may never act like kids again. You know, what if this traumatizes us into maturity? Or well--at least me,” he began to laugh. “What ever, why question good moods?”

“True,” Keith agreed. “And also, I think, if you’re not mature, you’re at least good at pretending to be. Sometimes.”

“Ah, you notice my thespian,” Lance answered to hide his flattery.

“I didn’t know that!” Keith beamed. “I mean, I thought you were a little...extra, but I had no idea there was reason behind it.”

“I mean, yeah. I even majored in theatre before I realized that this paid the bills even better. But, yeah, I really planned on being an actor, according to my parents I am. They think that I’m doing shows in New Orleans to work up a resume. If they knew I was an active criminal, they’d ground me forever!” he stopped so they could both laugh at his irrational fear. “But in all seriousness, I’d hate for them to know I do this. I mean, a part of me thinks that they’d be proud because most of my job is helping immigrants, like their parents, but they’d just worry too much. They have enough to worry about with my grandparents and siblings, they don’t need to worry about their delinquent son. What would they even tell people? Ugh, the whole thing would just tear them up.”

A strong silence fell. Keith tried to think of a proper response, but something blocked his throat. He had always had the opposite family problems, except a few hours ago when he had to confess to his family that he had been active in crime and sneaking behind their backs. It wasn’t the same though, he knew what he had done wouldn’t rip his family apart, like what Lance feared.

Unsure of what to say, Keith rested his very awake head on Lance’s arm as a dog or cat might do to show affection. “That sucks,” he said. “I’m sorry I can’t say everything will be okay, but I can say you’ve improved lives. At least mine.”

He didn’t make eye contact, his eyes were focused on the floor. Lance was glad Keith didn’t see the expression on his face. He was so flustered his face burnt but below his skin, chills ran lose. Even the corners of his mouth twitched in different direction unsure if he was going to cry or laugh.

While they sat silently, with Keith still laying on Lance’s arm but browsing through his phone, Lance decided to think about afterwards. After this job, what he was going to do. Another important question was wondering if the mission would ever even end, but that wasn’t of concern right now. Lance wanted to think about Keith. Lance wanted to plot a romantic scheme, but he refused to while they were working. Keith had to say yes, he was too flirty not to be into him. But how would they go out? Where will Keith be when this all ends? Where will he want to go from concluding a major chapter in his life? This is barely even a chapter in his life, it’s more like volume one of three.

“Sorry,” Keith said sitting his head up. “I got comfortable without thinking--”

“No, you can keep--” Lance interrupted but stopped. “I was just thinking, I didn’t mind. If I wanted to go on my phone I would.”

“Oh,” Keith said as he laid down again on Lance’s left arm. These private jet seats were like entire bucket seats.

An ideal time to ask Keith out would be after they knew everyone was safe and Lotor’s dad was no longer a threat. Even more ideally, it be great if Lance could grab Keith by his lower back and pull him in for a kiss while the evacuated building behind them exploded in orange and red fire. Unfortunately, they were aiming for no fires, so he would just have to bring the fire himself.

Lotor stood up from his seat and migrated to the back with Allura and Coran following. They sat in the aisle next to Keith and Lance while Lotor stood behind the row in front of them.

“All right,” Lotor began. “I want to run you all through my first-draft-plan and hope that we can improve and perfect it by the time we land.”

“Oh crap, we forgot to make a plan,” Keith whispered to Lance.

“What was that?” Lotor asked after Keith’s whispers.

“It’s just,” Lance spoke, “I have a lot of New Orleans connections, since I live there. We were going to make a scrap plan since we know people who can help.”

“What happened? Get distracted?” Lotor smirked as they bit their separate tongues. They couldn’t disagree, he was right. “Well, what can I say, you snooze you lose. Anyhow, we better keep the plan small.”

“Yeah, but I know an officer, hackers, bakers if that’s helpful,” Lance suggested.

“Well, add to my plan then,” Lotor insisted. “Or at least let me explain my plan, or do you want to tell us yours?” He waited for Lance to roll his eyes. “That’s what I thought. So, here’s my father’s plan: he has organized a bomb threat in precinct 22, where bomb sniffing dogs are kept in a separate building. So, he already has one entire squad captive but then precinct 36 will get the call to help. Ultimately needing backup, they’ll call precinct 59, my father’s precinct. By that time, there’s 75 to 150 officers there, possibly more. My father plans to direct the officers to go in the building, to stand guard, and other jobs that place the officers within the radius of the explosion. Him and the other Galra will ‘check’ into the evidence room, which is both in the opposite direction of the bomb and a metallic, and relatively, safe room to be in. I don’t have that many details because he only wants me to run in after the explosion to retrieve him and the Galra, for an emotional appeal to the reporters. You know, ‘fearless son runs into fire to save his hero father and other survivors’ except he promises that it’ll be safe. He’ll be a hero.

“Here’s my plan, however: no explosion or death. We’re going to arrive five hours before the call gets made, or the crazy person runs in claiming bomb, or whatever he has in mind. I have to go meet him, I’ll bring Allura with me. The Altean will throw him off, I’ll tell him that you’re going to be an extra bystander. Like, a hype man, we’ll tell him that you’ll cry and scream and such. Lance, I need you to commit a petty crime so that you can get held in the 22nd precinct.”

“No way!” Lance protested.

“Coran and Keith will come in shortly and bail you out, I’ll even give them the bail money,” Lotor explained. “You’ll be out of there far before there’s even a threat.”

“I can do it,” Keith volunteered.

“No!” Lotor and Lance both disagreed, but Lotor continued to explain, “Lance is registered in the system. I looked up your criminal record, if Keith gets arrested, he’ll be there for hours, even a whole day, just getting processed. Keith and Coran will pick you up at 5, two and a half hours before the bomb threat.” Lance nodded in agreement. He wished he had never smoked in public.

“Alright, while Keith and Coran are waiting, they’ll check the place out. By 4:45, my father will bring Allura and I to the same precinct for a fake tour. While Coran continues to wait for Lance to be released, I want you, Keith, to follow behind me and my father on the tour until we reach the evidence room. Then, approach Allura and pretend to be an old friend and my father will insist that we continue the tour while you and Allura reunite. Walk from the evidence room in a straight diagonal line, and it will lead you to where the bomb is to be placed. I know the bomb won’t be there at that time, as it is to be placed by a 22nd precinct Galra at 7.

“This part is a little risky as it’s only a quarter hour away from announcing the threat, in which they’ll lock down the whole building. Keith and Lance will return at 7:15 claiming to leave Lance’s jacket. You’ll get it, hide the bomb in the jacket, and leave. We then safely dispose of it.

“So...perfect plan?” Lotor asked.

No one verbally protested. They all tried to contemplate what would go wrong, it seemed too simple. But, no one knew what was about to happen, they had to have all faith in Lotor. They all came to the same conclusion, and nodded along with Lotor to approve of his plan. Lotor, however, kept his eye on Lance who was still thinking.

“Would you like to suggest your plan now, Lance?” Lotor asked.

“You’re right, it’s a perfect plan,” Lance begrudgingly agreed.

“Perfect! Let’s all get some rest before we land, we have a big day!” Lotor clapped his hands and walked back to the front where he was sitting, but Coran and Allura remained.

They didn’t notice when Lance whispered in Keith’s ear, “can we make a backup plan?”

“Yeah, okay,” Keith answered. “It’s dumb not to have a plan B.”

“It’s more than that, I still don’t trust Lotor. I want to make a ‘in case Lotor betrays us’ plan.”

“Okay, I’m still on board,” Keith reassured him.

“What are you all whispering about,” Allura whispered from the seats in front of them, where Lotor stood just a minute ago. They both jumped, Lance even made a slightly audible squeal, which made Allura giggle.

“We’re making a plan B,” Keith explained.

“What’s wrong with Lotor’s?” she asked.

“I mean—would you betray your father?” Lance asked.

“My father wasn’t evil,” Allura defended.

“Allura,” Keith tried to explain, but was interrupted.

“You’re right, I want to help,” she snapped. “He’s a stranger, I’m not going to trust him over my own brother, what do you guys have.”

The three tried to assemble a plan, but they felt like they kept missing details. Every time they resolved one flaw in the plan, they quickly discovered another. As Lotor fell asleep, Coran crept over to sit in the seat next to Allura and began to give his own input. He perfected plan B like he was tightening thread in a quilt. They’re scrap, worst-case-scenario-plan had become more substantial and careful than the original. Unfortunately, as the plan suggests not to trust Lotor, they couldn’t tell him. However, they changed a few details to make it so they could conduct their plan within Lotor’s.

While Lance explained how Pidge’s older brother, Matt, might be of help to the plan, a chime echoed through the plane. The pilot unknowingly awoke Lotor as he made his announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could ask you to return to your seats and strap in your belts as we begin our descent,” the gargled voice announced.

Allura and Coran tiptoed to different seats before Lotor turned around and became suspicious. When his head rotated, all he saw was Coran and Allura asleep where he left them and Keith and Lance snoozing on each other’s shoulders. He shrugged and took silent pride in being the only one awake.

“Up, up, sleep heads!” he called to the back.

No one even flinched, as to make it look like they were really asleep.

“Hello? Wake up, you all don’t want to be groggy and all when we land!” he said, but again no one moved. Unable to move from his seat himself, Lotor took a ponytail-holder from his wrist and snapped it so it hit Lance’s wrist, but it flung to Coran mustache again.

“Quiznak!” he abruptly shouted, and fakingly awoke everyone suttounding him.

“Sorry! But we’re landing!” Lotor reminded them all as the plane made questionable movements as a decent.

Yet, they safely landed and quickly exited the small airport.

“So, I’ll order an Uber for Allura and I while you get arrested, ASAP. Keith and Coran, don’t forget to be there be there by four, you have two hours,” Lotor reminded everyone, as their Uber pulled up behind them.

Before Allura crawled into the car, Keith took her by the shoulder, spun her around, and hugged her tightly. His face tickled in her hair, but he continued to dig further closer to her ear so he could whisper good luck. They clung to each other as if it was the last time they’d see each other, but they wouldn’t let that be.

Lotor impatiently poked Allura’s shoulder as a signal to go. She slowly pulled away and disappeared behind Lotor in the car. While Keith hugged Allura, Lance ordered an Uber that was already arriving. The three got in and silently rode.

Moments after they realized no one could go on their phones without the person next to them seeing what was on their screen, Coran asked, “now, Lance, were going to your place?”

“Yeah, it might take a second to convince Hunk and Pidge, but I think we have that power between us,” Lance nodded.  
“Very nice, Keith, you’ve met these...people, I assume?” Coran asked.

“Yeah, they’re nice, you’re going to want to adopt them,” Keith joked.

“So that’s something you do with everyone!” Lance cried, betrayed.

“No, no, Lance, my boy! What we shared was special! I’ve never had a son-in-law!” Coran joyfully disagreed.

The joke had begun with them dating, but now Coran was making marriage jokes! Coran watched as Lance’s mouth slowly draw up to protest with no sounds and Keith burying his red face on the cold window. As that perfect moment came about, they aphid arrived outside the green door.

“Thank you!” Lance called as he slammed the door and ran inside.

As he suspected, no one was home, but he continued to raid his apartment for thicker jackets that would be able to hide a bomb. He found one that was attached to a hoodie and quickly traded it out for the one he was wearing before Coran could even enter the house. He heard Buba pout as he closed the door, the dog didn’t even receive a pat on the head.

He ran up the stairs, skipping each step, to arrive at another door that went to another apartment. He repeatedly wrapped his knuckles on the wood until a male version of Pidge opened it. He had wet hair and a towel around his waist.

“Lance, what are you doing here?” he asked.

“Hey, Matt, where is everyone?” Lance asked. He had ideas of where his friends might be located, but needed confirmation.

“Uh, Shiro and Hunk are at work and I think Pidge is in her room,” he answered.

“Can you get her out here?” Lance asked.

Matt was confused, but still obliged as he closed the door to get Pidge. Long moments later, she whipped the door open croaking, “what?”

“We need you,” Lance said.

“Should have thought of that yesterday, I don’t do things today.”

With a satisfied and smug face, she tried to close the door, but Lance caught it. With the door now in his hand, he pulled her out into the hall he was standing in and shut it behind her. “Listen, you might resent things, but this is really serious. I don’t even have the time to explain how serious it is, but it involves defusing a bomb,” Lance explained.

Pidge released herself from his grip, “how do you expect me to do that!” she asked.

“We don’t, we need your help in other regions,” he said.

Their eyes were locked onto each other’s. Lance was known to be dramatic, so Pidge tried to study his face as intensely as she could to find any hint of a lie. Yet, he seemed not only sincere, but serious. She simply nodded in reply and ran back into her apartment to get appropriate clothing on.

“Who’s Shiro?” Keith asked.

“Oh, I thought I told you about him. He’s this kick-ass cop, I’m his unruly informant, and Matt is his boyfriend.”

Keith simply hummed and nodded, but the name continued to echo around his skull.

Pidge emerged from the door in light jeans, a gray shirt, and a green hoodie. “Run me through the plan,” she demanded as she lead the others down the stairs to the exit.

“We got to get Hunk, we have to get arrested,” Lance explained.

“Not again!” Pidge said as she turned to face him.

“Not like that, but I can’t explain everything now, please just trust me,” he pleaded.

Pidge continued to march down the sidewalk as she sucked her lip in consideration. “Okay, fine, but only because it’s funny.”

They continued walking, occasionally picking up speed and slowing down. Finally, they reached Hunk’s shop and sped walk towards him from behind the counter.

Hunk looked up and didn’t see his friends charging for him, but his favorite murderer with an old man with flaming red hair on his face and head. “Hey, it’s my favorite-“ he then considered it be unprofessional to call out “favorite murderer” in his bakery full of customers, “-I mean hey,” before he could recall Keith’s name, four hands pushed him into the kitchen. “Guys, what?”

“We need to get arrested again,” Lance looked Hunk, in the eye and then ran into the back where his “office” was to grab a bottle.

“Lance, no, I haven’t even gotten my record expunged yet,” Hunk begged.

“Exactly, now you can do something illegal ‘cause you need your record expunged anyway,” Lance said handing Hunk a shot.

“Why?” Hunk asked.

“Legit, life or death. We going to get tipsy, go down to the police station, they’ll put us in holding until Keith and Coran get me, but you’re going to stay a little longer,” he explained.

Beads of sweat became visible as Hunk asked, “oh, no, why am I staying longer?”

“To see what the guy who brings in the bomb looks like,” Lance continued to explain.

“Bomb?” Hunk quietly screeched as he took the shot. “Why? Why? Why?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out when I get my jacket, but according to the floor plans we found online, the holding cells are close to across from the evidence locker.” 

“This makes no sense to me!” Hunk cried as he took another shot with Lance.

“Everything will be okay, we have two plans in work right now. Pidge will stay at the bakery and watch everything.”

Hunk groaned as he downed another shot. Lance poured the clear substance in the small glasses on more time, and threw the liquid in his mouth. Before he swallowed, he swished the liquor around his mouth as to keep it on his breath. He shivered as it fell through his body. “Let’s go.”

Hunk followed Lance through the exit. He was surprised to see that they were passing Keith and the man, as they were now comfortable sitting at a table. It began to register that it would only be Lance and Hunk going to the police station now, and that Hunk knew he couldn’t hold back Lance’s drama. It was nearly guaranteed that Lance would saunter into the police station, falling back and forth and slurring flirtatiously, pretending to be drunk.

It didn’t even feel real as they walked into the 2nd precinct with Lance’s arms up and waving. His voice uneven, almost as if he was weakly attempting to yodel screaming, “I heard this is where the party is at! I brought my main man-z Hunk, and we are here...to tear it up!” It wasn’t long until an officer took them both by the arms and threw them into a holding cell with three other drunks, one sleeping man, and two sober and scary men.

As the officers walked away, Hunk got close to Lance. It was odd to see what seemed to be a cowardly giant and a smug beanstalk. Hunk even continued to try to get behind Lance as if he would protect him.

“So, what exactly is the plan,” Hunk whispered as he saw no cops in sight.

“What time is it?” Lance asked, instead of answering.

“3:45,” Hunk answered with an unsure and trembling voice.

“Only? Wow! What a day,” Lance reminisced, avoiding Hunk.

“Lance, please, what the fuck is going on.”

Lance got uncomfortably close, but it was the only way to assure no one heard his whispers. “Keith and Coran are going to get me at 4:30, but I’ll actually leave around 5. You’re going to stay here until a little after seven, when we come get you at 6:45. Before they release you, I’ll go in the cell, grab my forgotten jacket and the bomb, if it’s where we think it is.”

“This plan has a lot of holes,” Hunk said.

“When I say it, it does,” Lance agreed. “But it’s okay, it’s all worked out.”

They sat together in silence for a while. They watched the two scary men from across from them, hoping they wouldn’t cause trouble. As tension started to grow, Hunk averted it by talking to Lance. “What about Keith?”

“What about him?” Lance asked looking at Hunk.

“He knows the plan and everything?” Hunk asked.

“Oh, yeah, I thought you were-“

“Going to mention that you’re basically in love with him, felt too obvious to say out loud.”

Lance was about to jump out of his skin, but he stayed cool remembering everyone knew anyway. At least he was alone with Hunk for a little bit. Since college, Lance hadn’t understood his feelings until they were discussed with Hunk. Though he was confident he did like Keith, he still didn’t know what to do about it.

“Very funny, but really, he’s so pretty,” Lance started. Hunk adjusted his sitting to get comfortable. “But, there have been so many times I wanted to say something, but something pops up! It’s got me thinking, will things ever calm down? When can we talk?ideally, it’d be after this whole thing calms down, but what if this is connected to another conspiracy that we have to drop everything and go resolve something else, you know? I just want to talk to him at a good time.”

“Buddy, you got this image of a perfect time, but you’ve probably let a lot of perfect times slip away. The perfect time is when you know exactly what you want to say,” Hunk replied. He knew Lance needed these cliche talks and bits of advice in order to feel motivated.

“So wise,” Lance patted Hunk’s shoulder and leaned back to think about the perfect way to phrase his feelings. There was a lot to consider, like what would the tone of his speech be? Would he approach Keith casually or seriously? Something else he considered was not making an entire spiel. He considered just asking Keith out. The flaw with that would be Keith missing out on Lance’s true feelings.

He didn’t want to ask him out as if it was a last minute thought, he had been thinking about it a lot. He wanted to tell Keith how exciting his life has been since he entered it, how he felt like Keith gave him such purpose. His world had been teetering on edge when he met him, and Lance was considering moving. Now, all he wanted was to be where Keith was. As he thought out these words, he felt the intensity of his feelings grow.

Now really wasn’t the time for his feelings to grow, as he wanted to keep them in control until he got confirmation that they were at all reasonable from Keith himself. He had decided to be upfront and honest about his feelings, in a sincere, but not especially serious way. He just wanted to say that he thought he was really amazing, and cool, and he loved being around him and just wanted to be around him more. That sounded perfect, but still, Lance ran through multiple ways to say it.

Keith and Coran came early, at 4:15. For a while, they sat by the entrance and tried not to disturbed anyone until a cop asked them how he could help.

“Oh,” Keith replied to the cop. “I think my friend drunken came here with his drunk friend?”

“The scrawny guy with the big guy?” the cop asked.

“Yeah, I’m here for the scrawny one,” Keith confirmed.

“Follow me,” the cop turned his massive back towards them and began to walk through the station. As Lotor had originally planned, Keith waited by the entrance and Coran followed the cop.

“Alright,” the cop said behind the glass. “The bail fee is $450.”

“Oh,” Coran choked. “I believe that already been taken care of.”

The cop flipped through the paper in front of him. “Umm, nope. Sorry, sir, you have to pay if you want the string bean.”

Coran shuffled through his wallet in a panic. He slowly retrieved a credit card and handed it to the cop with a shaking hand. Before the cop could put a charge on it, the clock turned to 4:30 and the phone rang. “Hello?” the cop answered as he was about to swipe the card. Coran heard a muffled British accent say the name “Lance McClain” as the cop lowered the card. “Alright, sir.”

The cop handed Coran his card back and said, “you were right, all paid for! Just go back to the area you were in before while we release him.”

Coran walked back to his seat next to Keith, confused and relieved. “Looks like Lotor and Allura are on their way,” Coran updated Keith. “Remember, you go with them.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,” Keith said with his eyes in his phone screen. It was odd, he hadn’t been separated from Lance this whole time until then. He kept checking his phone for a text from him or a distraction from what he might be going through right now in a holding cell. He wanted confirmation that he was okay, but couldn’t get any.

Shortly, Lotor and Allura walked in. Keith stifled his need to greet them, especially as a giant followed them. It was his first time actually seeing Lotor’s father. He looked like the embodiment of evil as Lotor described him to be. It was amazing that anyone would trust him to be a captain, as it seemed obvious he was evil with his menacing demeanor and massive body parts. His head looked like the entire moon and his hands looked like tiger claws, Keith began to shrink.

“Captain Zarkon!” the cop that assisted Keith and Coran called out as he approached him. “To what do we owe the honor?”

“I’m just here to give my son and his girlfriend a short tour, you wouldn’t mind, would you?” Zarkon asked. Even his voice seemed evil, low but demanding.

“Of course! Allow me,” the cop offered, but was sharply cut off by Zarkon.

“I’ve been here plenty of times, I would prefer to privately show them around myself,” he requested.

The cop contemplated. From his looks and actions, it seemed that his cop was filling in for someone today. He had no actual authority, and Zarkon was technically above him. He gave them access.

As Zarkon turned the corner, Allura and Lotor followed and the cop watched them walk off. Finally, when he turned around himself, Keith got up to walk behind Allura. He stalked the, from behind corners, making sure no one saw him. Yet, he tried to act confident enough that no cop would stop him to ask why he was out of the waiting room.

They came upon a door that looked like the one Lotor described to be the evidence locker. It was huge and metallic, like the door to an underground bunker. Keith took a deep breath as he made himself visible to the group of three.

“Allura!” he called. “What are you doing here?”

Keith!” Allura replied as she went to hug him. “It’s been so long! I’m just here on a tour with my boyfriend and his dad.” As her face was now unseen by Lotor and Zarkon, she rolled her eyes to show Keith how she felt. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, umm...internship,” Keith lied.

“Allura, how about we meet you back at the front?” Zarkon asked.

“That sounds perfect, thank you!” Allura called as they turned another corner. “I hate them, oh, my God,” Allura told as they disappeared.

Keith and her walked, weaving through the hallways, trying to stay as consistently diagonal as they could while Allura went on. “He never had to say I was his girlfriend, he just did! And his dad is so evil, and he joined in on the evil talk, no problem! I’m glad we didn’t trust him, anyone that capable of pretending to be evil has to be evil.”

As they walked through parts of the station they had not yet seen, it was obvious that they were approaching where the bomb would be placed. They walked until they reached the very corner of the station, where Hunk and Lance sat in a cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late, but whatever lmao gtg I’m late to class also this week I might not be able to update a lot, my friends brother died


	8. Announcement: not story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No story

Hi!  
Thanks for sticking with me, I’m excited to be wrapping up my first series! Unfortunately, I haven’t had as much time to dedicate myself as I’m in community college while applying to four year colleges and I have finals and I have to reply to all the schools! Ah! I’m still writing, but I won’t be publishing on a schedule anymore. I like editing (I follow by hemmingway’s “write drunk edit sober”) before publishing and I didn’t get to do that last chapter so I’m not sure how that turned out lmao sorry. So I promise to finish the story, I think there will only be 2-4 more chapters, but there will no longer be a schedule. To check when I publish, I post on my tumblr @high-bme   
Thanks for sticking with me!  
Bridget <3


	9. Reunite

Lance looked up to see two beautiful people running up to his cell. There were six cells in the hallway like room, but they had glass and cement walls instead of bars, like one had expected.

He stood to meet their faces at the glass, “You guys here to pick me up?”

Keith and Allura stared at him frantically, knowing he didn’t know that he was sitting on top of the bomb’s location. “No, I assume a guard or officer, or whatever, will escort you to where we should be,” Keith clarified.

“Are you serious?” Lance whispered through the glass. “How did you get back here.”

“If you act like you belong, no one questions you.”

“Also, they all think Keith is an intern.”

Lance laughed as Hunk stood to join them at the glass. “Hi, I don’t know you, and I don’t know you that well, but am I going to be safe?”  
“Of course, buddy,” Lance assured him.

Keith let out a disappointed sigh that made Hunk and Lance feel a lot less safe. They darted their four eyes in his direction and waited for bad news. “I don’t know, I think the bomb is actually going to planted here. We got to go,” and he turned and lead Allura back to the front.

“I’m sure everything is going to be okay, we won’t let anything bad happen,” Allura consoled Hunk, a stranger.

He began to deeply breath as they left and Lance began to hang on him for support and comfort. “I’m sorry I got you into this, buddy,” he apologized. Hunk stayed silent while Lance continued to smother him, hoping for redemption.

“I think everything is going to be okay,” he said to Lance and himself. “It’s a lot to think about.”

Lance leaned on him and lead him back to where they sat before on the steel bench that wrapped around the room. “Oh, they didn’t confiscate,” Lance began as he dug through his breast pocket, “these!” He held out a small blue pill called propranolol, Hunk recognized it as his anxiety medicine.

“Why do you have my medicine?” Hunk asked as he out it on his tongue and swallowed.

“After spring break junior year, I never forget,” Lance reminded him of their vacation to Miami in which Hunk forgot his anxiety medicine, and barley went to parties.

“I still feel guilty about that,” he confessed.

“Don’t, we had more fun hanging out in that hotel room than we would have if we got sloppy drunk and hungover.”

As they concluded their reminiscing, a cop began to saunter to the back cell where they were. Lance slid off his jacket, trying not to raise any questions in it. “Take my jacket, there’s more pills in the pocket and I need it for when I come back to get you and the bomb.”

As the cop shouted his last name, Lance shot up standing and followed him out of the cell and room. Lance turned his head slightly to see how Hunk was without him. Already, the other inmates began standing and approaching him. It was hard to say why they didn’t when Lance was there, but he was thankful that Hunk could offer the criminals drugs in exchange for not beating him up. Also, Hunk was actually much bigger than any man in there and could shatter bones, but he continued to clutch to Lance’s jacket like a helpless child holding their security blanket.

“He’ll be fine,” Lance quietly whispered to himself as he approached Keith. “He’ll be fine right?” he asked Keith.

“He’ll be fine,” Keith hugged Lance. “Thank you for doing that.”

“He’ll be fine,” Lance confidently repeated while he rested his sharp chin on Keith’s shoulder.

“He’ll totally be fine,” Keith repeated as he untangled himself from Lance as Lotor and Zarkon approached. Instead, he moved to stand slightly in front of Lance and took his hand into his own, and hid it behind his back. At first, his hand was limp and confused, but as Zarkon came out of the hallway, Lance began to squeeze back.

“Allura, are you,” Zarkon looked to Keith as he paused, “ready?”

“For what? Oh! Yes, let’s go.”

Before she could leave, Lance grabbed a hold of her sleeve, “are you leaving with him,” he whispered.

“It’s apart of the plan,” Allura patted Lances clinging handed to loosen his grip and let her go.   
Coran was sitting in the seat he’s been in the whole time. He was comfortable, he could even have fallen asleep, but he got up, ready to leave.

“Oh, my god, what’s the next part of the plan?” Lance asked as Coran stood by them.

“We wait,” Coran reminded him.

“For two hours! While Hunk is in that cell, being intimidated by those giants!” Lance fought.

“Lance, Hunk is at least seventy pounds bigger than anyone in there, remember, he’ll be fine,” Keith repeated.

“He’ll be fine while I’m busy saving the world, not while I’m just standing around, waiting to save him!” 

“Lance,” Keith and Coran began at the same time. They looked to each other to see who would continue, and Coran silently insisted that Keith go. “Lance,” Keith proceeded. “I’m sorry, but there’s really nothing we can do but wait.”

“I know what we can do!” he giddily exclaimed. 

Coran and Keith were alerted, but overall happy to see the violent shift in moods. They followed Lance out of the station and down the street, presumably to a restaurant to get something to eat. Instead, he lead them back to the bakery, where Pidge sat behind the counter talking to Matt.

“Hey guys,” he smiled.

“You survived! Congrats!” Matt threw up his arms in celebration.

“Where’s Hunk?” Pidge asked.

“Oh, he didn’t, but that isn’t of concern right now,” Lance said.

“What!” They shouted at his joke.

“No, he’s okay, he’ll be fine he just needed to do something.”

The mirror image siblings mirrored each other’s sighs of relief. “Don’t do that.”

“But, Pidge,” Lance got back on topic, “you think you could do something for me. Do you have your computer with you?”

“Of course,” she lead him to the back. Before they disappeared, Lance snapped his neck at Coran and Keith, signaling them to follow. They got up from the table they sat at and slowly and awkwardly walked through the swinging doors of the back, expected to be stopped. Yet, Matt also swiped his hand at them ushering them to the back.

It was familiar it Keith, but new to Coran. There was a massive kitchen, crowded with cakes, colorful frosting, and other pastries. The mess beautiful distracted Coran from the door that they were walking through, but he jogged through remembering what they were doing. This room was dark, with strong herbal smells, and had nothing but millions of pillows and tapestries, with two chairs. The only light source was the small lightbulb on the ceiling hid under a heavily decorated shade.

Pidge sat with her legs crossed on the floor, but leaned on the chair Lance’s chair. “So, what do you need from me?”

“You found a lot about a secret society a few days ago,” Lance started. “That was very impressive, do you think you can do it again but with an unofficial society.”

“What does that even mean?”

“There’s these people called the Galra. They’re corrupt government workers,” he explained.

“They all are,” she countered.

“But these ones have a plan, a scheme. These people took Keith’s family from him and are currently trying to send our town into anarchy.   
They have an agenda and they communicate with each other, that should be enough, right?”

“Actually, yeah, except,” she thought for a minute, “if you could find something monumental that they’ve done, I could find the people who were involved, eye witness accounts, and I could go from there.”

“Perfect!” Lance clapped. He looked to Coran and Keith and said, “I told you there was something we could be doing!”

Keith and Coran exchanged a concerned look that confused Lance. “The plan was unstable, we thought we planned it thoroughly, but none of us even know where Allura is, how Hunk is doing, still anything about Lotor, we can’t wait for instruction. We don’t know what to expect when go back for Hunk, and it’d be helpful to identify the Galra,” he argued to the tension in the room.

This time, Coran and Keith shared a confident look, but the silent conversations that he wasn’t included on annoyed Lance a little. “Okay, Lance, what do you want to do?” Coran asked.

Pressure had always been key for Lance when he found himself in leader positions, though it rarely happened. The instance he was reminding himself for inspiration, “I did this once, I can do this again,” was one of his last theater classes. He had been sorted in a group of six, but they all expected the other to take charge, so they never started. It wasn’t until two nights before the project was due, that he found these strangers numbers, and created a group chat in hopes to meet them all in the library. Lance began to do what he did then, and fixed his posture. Being in theater for as long as he was, the value of body language was instilled into his core. That is why he always finger guns, everyone knows it’s bi body language.

“Alright, we got names, right? Zarkon, they were calling him ‘Captain Zarkon’ so you could literally just Google that with New Orleans and pull up any articulated he’s been in, which has to be a few since he’s the captain of the biggest precinct in New Orleans. He’s had to have commented on an ‘incident’ that he actually conducted, right?” Lance eagerly spat.

Pidge raised an eyebrow and asked, “you okay, bud? Got a little intense there.”

“I stand by it, do the genius idea I had,” Lance commanded.

To this, she spat on his shoe, then looked down at her computer and began working. Lance started at her in disgust waiting for an apology, but Pidge never broke eye contact with the computer screen and happily ignored the tension.  
She taped on her keyboard long after Lance gave up in getting an apology. As he crossed his legs and arms to get comfortable, Pidge gasped.

“Did you find something?” Lance jumped to lean down towards her computer.

“Yeah, a lot of petty theft cases Zarkon is involved in is always the same guy,” Pidge said, out of breath from her discovery.

The rest were confused upon what this meant. “So?”

“Zarkon wouldn’t be involved with a petty theft, unless he was instructing the guy. He’d unfortunately have to be close ‘cause, I think this ‘petty thief’ is actually one of Zarkon’s most trusted. His name is Zeke Conway, sound familiar?”

“Is it supposed to?” Lance asked.

“Just asking, here’s his picture,” Pidge raised her computer to Lance.

He was looked vaguely familiar, but it took another look to recognize him. If his shoulders were lowered and his scowl wasn’t as harsh as the one he gave to the photographer. He was in the cell with Hunk and Lance, he was the one next to the one who approached Hunk. Conway must have ordered the other guy to do something to Hunk without Lance knowing. Lance felt nauseated and a cold sweat break from his forehead.

“Um—yeah, he looks familiar, but I think we should go see Shiro,” Lance said, calmly as possible. 

“Okay, but why?” Pidge asked.

“Well, first, we still have to tell him about his captain, also about tonight,” But Pidge interrupted him.

“What’s tonight have to do with him?” Pidge asked. Lance realized that all she knew was there was a bomb threat, he had forgotten to mention Shiro was a target.

“Umm—he’s” Lance didn’t want to lie, “going to be where the bomb is going to be. But also,” Pidge interrupted him again.

“LANCE! WE GOT TO GO NOW!” she slammed her computer and ran for the door, expecting for the others to follow. The stood and ran after her, and she was already running out the door shouting at Matt that he was in charge now.

“I don’t even work here,” Keith heard Matt whisper to himself as he accepted cash from a customer.

Pidge looked weightless as she hurriedly glided to the police station across the street. The others jogged behind her while she pushed open the door and went to Shiro’s desk, as she had before then.

“Shiro,” she ran to hug him, even though he was just doing paperwork at his desk. Shiro wasn’t sure if he should hug back at first, since Matt had warned him to never, but he wrapped his arms around her as he remembered that she initiated the hug. He stood and squeezed her tighter as he came to the realization that she must have been pretty shaken up to go to hug someone.

“Katie, are you okay?” he asked, pulling her away to look her in the eye.

Lance came jogging in, with Keith and Coran behind him.

“Lance, is everything okay?” Shiro asked again.

“Yeah, kind of, is there anywhere we can talk?” Lance asked.

Shiro, still holding Pidge on his side, guided them to an empty interrogation room. He ran out, and the others watched the mirror turn into a window with Shiro on the other side turning a switch and running back. He watched door as he closed it behind him and clicked closed. Then, he sat where a cop might sit during interrogation.

“What’s going on?” he asked, calmly.

“A lot, actually,” Lance confessed. “Nothing I told you, this all happened after the last time I saw you.”

“We’ve talked about this, Lance, it’s not just about me seeing you, you need to tell me when things are happening,” Shiro scolded.

“I know, and I’m sorry, I haven’t really gotten to sit down and realize how big this is, I should have told you,” Lance said as he took a seat across from Shiro. 

Besides the amount of people in there and the two-way mirror looking like a window, the interrogation room looked like it was currently holding an interrogation between Shiro and Lance. Lance began to realize that it seemed like he was pleading guilty to crimes, he was a criminal sitting across from a police officer telling him about all the illegal activities. But Lance remembered, he wasn’t guilty, it was Shiro’s boss. But that might come across even more guilty. There was a chair next to him, a space for someone else. Pidge couldn’t explain since she hardly knew what was going on herself, Keith was the only reasonable explanation.

Lance turned his head slightly, as to not bring Shiro’s attention, but just to see Keith. He looked stunned and stuck in disbelief, the way he’s looked ever since they entered the station. It seemed impossible to be this afraid of cops, especially considering that Lance was much more active in the crime community and remained talkative. He felt guilt poison his body as Lance reached his hand out to Keith to guide him to the chair next to him. Keith sat with his arms tightly across his chest and avoiding eye contact with Shiro. Lance tried to inconspicuously get closer to Keith so he was able to comfort him and calm his nerves.

“I can’t explain anything without him,” Lance explained.

“Who is it?” Shiro asked Lance. Then, he turned his head towards Keith, “who are you?”

Keith tucked his chin further into his body and refused to talk to Shiro.

“Just a second,” Lance said to Shiro. “Keith,” he whispered to Keith. “Buddy, what’s up, what’s going on?”

“Just—give me a second?” Keith hardly spoke with a shaking voice.

Lance turned to Shiro and made a sign with his index finger to just give him one more moment. Keith turned his chin up for only a second to say, “Takashi?”

“I’m Takashi Shirogane, what’s your name?” Shiro asked. 

Keith didn’t say his name, but only revealed his tear-stained face, with even more tears streaming from his eyes. The sight took Lance aback, but then he flew forward to rub his shoulders, or touch him in any way. Again, Keith whimpered, “Takashi?”  
Shiro stood up and ran to the opposite end of the table, but stopped for a second when he stood right over Keith. He, in return, whimpered Keith’s name before falling to his knees and meeting him in a huddled hug. Lance raised an eyebrow as he tried to recall introducing Keith, but he realized how Shiro knew his name. He turned to Pidge as she began to realize how they knew each other, and tears flooded her confused eyes.

“Oh, Lord!” Coran gasped as he lastly realized. “Takashi!”

Pidge and Lance decided to spare Coran and give Keith and Shiro silence and respect. Neither of them looked away from the other, neither could they see anyone through their tears, but they continued to hug and weep, kneeling on the ground. Everyone in the room stood in place, wishing there was something they could do. If Hunk was there, he would know how to distribute the amount of emotion in the room and the time they had to plan. Lance waited to the side as patiently as he could as he remembered his friend was in sitting in a cell possibly with a bomb.

“What are you doing here,” Shiro asked when he could speak again.

“A lot,” Keith answered. “I can’t even explain most of it, we don’t have that time, we don’t even have the time we just spent.”

“What’s going on?” Shiro asked, grabbing Keith’s shoulders. They had 20 years of brotherly touches to make up for.

“Your boss, Captain Zarkon, planted a bomb in the station off of Tulane. He’s going to order you and a bunch of other precincts to guard and investigate or whatever, and everyone’s going to die. You’re not going to find the source of the bomb, he is the source,” he explains. Lance realized Keith said everything he needed to, the hardest part was over.

“Well, not if I know, I’ll confront him,” Shiro said.

“It’s too late for that,” Lance said.

“We met Zarkon’s son who helped us, kind of, we don’t know, a lot is falling apart and we need you, Shiro,” Keith said, as he clutched to Shiro’s shoulders in return.

Shiro thought for a minute. Usually he would never even consider doing something that wasn’t an order from a commanding officers, but circumstances had changed. The only reason he ever wanted to be a cop was to find his baby brother again, and now he was in front of him. Police work didn’t even seem important anymore, it only ever seemed important because he’d thought of it as indirectly protecting Keith. Now, he had the chance to do exactly what Keith needed.

“Where are we going?” Shiro asked.

“The station off of Tulane Lance’s friend is there. We’re going—to pick up the bomb, and his friend,” Keith meekly explained.

“Did we plant the bomb?” Shiro asked, taken aback so his silver bangs fell in his eyes that were still clear red.

“No, we haven’t done anything bad, I’ll explain it to you later, but right now, you kind of have to go with crazy,” Keith said.  
This was actually a high request that Keith forgot was asking a lot. Shiro was a great leader, but not the best follower. He saw there was too much dramatic irony, he knew nothing. Not even Lance and Keith, arguably co leaders as they knew the most, knew what to expect. 

“Which friend?” Shiro asked Lance.

“Hunk,” he replied.

The personal matters helped to motivate him to take a deep breath, and lead the team out the door.

“Where you going Shiro?” a fellow officer asked as she watched him rip his jacket from his desk chair.

“Family emergency,” he answered hurriedly.

“You better tell the captain, he requested that we be on high alert today,” she said.

Shiro stopped in his tracks and asked, “wonder why,” as he walked out the door.


	10. The end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith, Lance, Pidge, and Shiro find Lotor and stop him

Shiro was the only one Lance knew personally in New Orleans that owned a car. They all packed into the back of the silver Prius while they insisted Keith sit in the passenger seat for the short ride. He spent the ride not looking out the window, but continuing to star at his brother in disbelief.

“I can’t believe they made your name Shirogane, they changed mine to Kogane,” Keith told him.

“Seriously?” he scoffed. “That’s so stupid that they did that. It’s—like, frustrating, altering out names so slightly that we’d never find each other.”

“But we did,” Keith shook and smiled. “Kirogane brothers are back!”

“I can’t believe it,” Shiro smiled and wrapped his arm around Keith for a side hug as he pulled into a parking space.

The rest smiled and joyfully watched before they leaped out to scurry to the entrance. 

All five walked inside. Pidge tried going straight to the officers, but Coran pulled her to sit with him in the same waiting area while the other three continued on.

“Officer Shirogane!” the same chubby cop from before beamed. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi Rob! I hear my friends got in trouble...again, is a Hunk Garret here?” Shiro asked.

“Big guy? No, someone posted his bail a while ago,” he answered.  
Lance’s heart fell to his stomach so hard that he almost vomit. Lotor wasn’t supposed to know about Hunk, but somehow posted his bail. Or hopefully, he paid the his bail himself. Still, those chances felt slim.

“The guy I was with?” Lance confirmed.

“String bean, yeah, I remember who comes and goes,” he answered.

“Well,” Lance croaked, “I think I forgot my jacket, do you mind if I go get it?”

“I’ll bring you back,” he said as he turned to lead the way.

Lance glanced every which way frantically looking for Hunk or a sign of him. When he reached the holding cells, his stomach dropped as he saw where he sat to be completely empty. Zeke nor his right hand man were there, along with his missing jacket. he got to his hands and knees and crawled on the dirty tile floors to check if his jacket had fallen or to see if the bomb had been strapped under a bench. Neither were there, so he stood and brushed the dust off of himself as he shrugged to the officer.

Again, Officer Rob lead Lance back to the waiting area. Everyone caught Lance’s uneasy feeling as they saw him return empty handed and biting his nails. Lance shrugged to the group to show his fear and confusion. Shiro stood and began to approach Rob.

“Who bailed out Hunk?” he asked the officer.

“It was odd, but your captain’s son bailed him, Zeke Conway, and Glenn Myers, do you know them?” Rob asked.

“I’ve heard of them, but if it was odd, why didn’t you question it?”

“I don’t know, I don’t like questioning Lotor, he has more power than you’d think.” The officer turned and returned to his post.

Shiro looked to the group sitting and joined them. “We have to evacuate.”

“Why? There’s no bomb, I couldn’t find one,” Lance said.

“That doesn’t mean there isn’t a bomb, it means Lotor did something. We don’t know where the bomb or Hunk is and that’s not a good sign, especially if he left with other criminals,” Shiro explained.

“I don’t think we should alarm anyone yet, though,” Keith suggested. “I have another idea.” 

He pulled out his phone and went into Snapchat while the others crowded around to watch his screen. Shortly after they saw all their faces in his camera, he shrunk the screen to zoom out into a map. They saw Keith’s blank avatar standing next to Lance’s custom bitmoji. As he zoomed out again, he saw Allura on the corner of Topaz and Canal Boulevard. Everyone knew what that meant, except Shiro.

“That’s my sister,” Keith pointed at the screen to Shiro. “She’s with Lotor.”

“That’s right up the street, let’s go,” Shiro said as he lead them to the door and to the car.

They drove up the street while Keith continued to check if they were still there. 

“They’re going towards the water,” Keith directed.

“Do you know why?” Shiro asked.

Keith groaned at the thought, “Lotor probably used us. We didn’t think we could trust him, but we had to.”

They drive until they saw a few figures by the water reflecting the sun set. One was clearly a distressed woman begging to a man while four stood by the water. Everyone hurriedly ran from the car to see more clearly, that it was Allura pleading Lotor.

“Please, Lotor, no one has to die. I thought that was the whole plan,” she cried.

“No, the plan is working perfectly. I can rid the world of him and his henchmen,” Lotor protested.

“But that one isn’t one of them, that’s Lance’s friend,” she pointed to Hunk.

“He had the bomb tucked into his jacket, he clearly was conspiring with them.”

“Stop!” Keith shouted as they approached closer.

Lance saw Hunk’s horror struck face as he was lined up with Glenn, Zeke, and Zarkon in an execution style. He was holding his hands in prayer with tears dripping down his face and a pool of vomit by his feet. A poor state for anyone, but he hadn’t gone unconscious and fallen in the water, yet.

“You conspired against me!” Lotor shouted at Keith.

“You conspired against us!” Keith returned.

“He will never be dealt with unless he’s dead,” Lotor explained. “He’s gotten everything he’s ever wanted and he will until he’s dead. He’s killed hundreds, I haven’t seen my mother in years, you haven’t seen your family, he’s taken everything from so many people. What will I be taking by taking his life? Victory, maybe.”

“And a lifetime of guilt. Lotor, his word will die with him. We have to keep him alive to assure justice to everyone he did wrong,” Keith protested.

Lotor looked shocked that he was even considering what Keith said. He thought his mind had been made up, but the truth complicates determination. He tightened his grip around something, presumably a remote control. Keith tried to remain eye contact, but flinched to check on Hunk, who was mirroring Lotor but instead, clutching to the jacket that was wrapped around the bomb.

While this stare-off occurred, Lance steadily tiptoed closer to Hunk. It was at this moment Keith glanced again to check on Hunk, but now saw Lance joining him. He looked back to Lotor with double the intensity of pleading in his eyes. “At least—reconsider,” he begged.

Lotor stayed silent, avoiding Keith’s eyes and staring at the ground ahead of him. Red shoes entered his field of vision, and his eyes accidentally met Keith’s. They were large and pleasing as he barley said, “please.” 

Upon closer inspection, Keith discovered that the remote looked like one that belonged to a toy car. As he had never seen the bomb, it was hard to believe they were actually fighting a life and death situation over what looked like a toy controller.

“You don’t understand, Keith,” Lotor explained. “He manipulated me to do things, I’ll have all my sins told in a courtroom but I wasn’t ready to make those decisions he made me make.” And he pressed a button before anyone could protest.

As he heard beeps coming from the jacket, Lance lunged for Hunk, but tripped the, both into the water. Before he could fully collect himself, a soaking Lance picked up his jacket from the sleeves and flung it around like a slingshot and threw it into the water as far as he could. Moments later, there were screams for nearby boaters as an underwater explosion gust water like a whale.

With the distraction and no more incentive, Zarkon began to flee. Keith tore his eyes from the water and called out “NO!” as he watched him go for the street. Everyone ran after him, but it was Keith who tackled the giant man to the asphalt from behind. He lunged for him as Lance did for Hunk, but with his shoulder as the lead intending him to get hurt.

His weight betrayed him as he slid across the pavement breaking skin and knocking the wind out of him. Lance pulled Keith off of him, unharmed, while Zarkon remained on the ground groaning. 

Keith wanted to punch and kick him while he was on the ground, but something held his whole body back. He met eyes with this force and saw Lance’s, and suddenly began to feel an overwhelming sense of ease that was quickly followed by a pump of adrenaline from what happened. He couldn’t seem to stop himself as he lunged again, this time for Lance’s lips. It was so violent, their first kiss felt like a punch, but they both melted into each other. Lance’s arms loosened around him while also bringing Keith closer.

“Really, guys?” Allura asked, “now?”

They both burst into laughter.

“Yes, now,” Keith said as he turned his head back to Lance and kissed him again, but softly.

They kissed again as they got to sit on a park bench after authorities came on the scene.

“Sorry,” Keith said.

“For what!” Lance cackled. “A few days ago, I thought I had no purpose. Then you came in and changed everything. Now I have you, a solved conspiracy behind me, and you! I’ve had the time of my life over the past few days because of you.”

“I just meant about your jacket,” Keith said. 

“Oh, yeah!” Lance burst out of embarrassment. “I did love that jacket!”

They both laughed together, then a silence dropped between them. It was stale and unsure. They both had the same question on their mind but couldn’t seem to bring it up.

“But—now what are you going to do?” Lance asked. “A few days ago, I was considering moving because business was kind of slow. I have a feeling it’s going to blow up after this gets out, but where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” Keith answered to assure Lance. “I can stay here, reconnect with Shiro, go to school maybe, I don’t know. But, I want to stay here with him and you.”

Lance was really unsure of where he was going until that answer. But he still felt unsure of what to do. He felt satisfied in his life of crime, he could end that chapter of his life right then and reconnect with his family. Another part of him wanted to stay in the business that brought him to Keith and the one he felt he knew. 

He realized it must have been obvious he had a lot on his mind when Keith leaned his head on his shoulder. Lance tilted his own head to rest on Keith’s and stare at the dark water with him, illuminated red and blue by the flashing lights behind them. Where ever they went in life, they knew they wanted to be with one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First fanfic complete! Sorry I got distracted towards the end, it began to write itself

**Author's Note:**

> read this while smoking and listening to bad soundcloud music, just like the way it was written. kidding, do what you want. this is my first series and I don't actually watch voltron anymore but the characters really resonated with me. especially with such a great opposite-attract ship! Also, I'm sorry I forget that Bubbles the corgi exsists in like, chapter three or four. anyway, like i was saying, my first series, because im REALLY insecure about my writing abilities. I would really appreciate feedback and even constructive criticism. even if its just "i like this" or "bad" or "good" or literally anything im desperate for validation and attention. also, im currently writing chapter five and i really didnt anticipate for this to be so long but the story has really taken over, so this is kind of a roller coaster to write as well as to read. also, the music I'm listening to is fox academy, atlas, cuco, and ben taylor. one more thing, i mapped out the story, even though it's longer than expected, the ending is predetermined. I know something yall don't ;) unless youre reading this after it's finished, then i just look like a damn fool. ok it 2:21 am, im gonna go to bed, but not really, im gonna smoke and keep writing. I hope yall like the story <3


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